


Fall Back

by J9nine



Series: Time After Time [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Flashbacks, Humor, M/M, Romance, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J9nine/pseuds/J9nine
Summary: Ten years after graduation, Stan returns to South Park to find that some things have changed and some things never will.





	1. Deleted, Blocked, Erased

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a brand new story. I am transitioning over from ff.net and wanted to bring along a select few stories. So terribly sorry if you've already read this. If you're reading for the first time, hope you enjoy.

 

**May, 2011**

 “Stan Marsh.”

Stan cringed at the sound of that all-too familiar voice.  It was his first day back in South Park in ten years, and not ten minutes after his return he was being greeted by the very person he’d spent so long trying to avoid. 

“Kyle,” he choked out, turning around.  He knew he should have blown off the damn reunion, that agreement he’d made with Kenny be damned.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on my lunch break.  Thought I’d stop by your parents’ house to see if you were back for the reunion,” Kyle replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets.  “And you are.”

“I am,” Stan agreed.

Kyle was taller than Stan remembered him being, and his hair looked different.  It was shorter.  Tamer.  Stan didn’t think it suited him.

“You look different,” he said.

“You look the same,” Kyle replied.

It was probably true.  As soon as high school was over, Stan had taken off to California, where he’d attempted to reinvent himself several times, but he always reverted back to the old Stan Marsh.  If there was one thing he could never escape, it was himself.

“This is weird,” Kyle told him.

It was an understatement.  This quasi-conversation seemed more like two strangers talking than two boyhood friends.  Even the way they were standing was awkward—Stan on his parents’ front porch, keys in one hand and duffel bag in the other, and Kyle standing across the yard, talking to him from the sidewalk.

“It is,” Stan agreed.  “I guess when you haven’t spoken for ten years…”

“Eleven,” Kyle cut him off.

“Eleven?” Stan repeated.

“We haven’t spoken in eleven years,” Kyle corrected him.  “You wouldn’t speak to me senior year, remember?”

Stan’s stomach turned.  “Right.”

He’d been trying to forget that year.

Stan sighed heavily, dropping his duffel onto the porch as he took a seat on the front step.  “You wanna sit?” he offered, patting the seat beside him.

Kyle shrugged and crossed the yard.

“So,” Stan said, as Kyle took a seat.  “You still with Bebe?”

“We broke up eight years ago,” Kyle replied.

“Oh.”

“It just didn’t work out,” Kyle went on.  “She went off to college in Rhode Island.  I went to Colorado Law with Cartman and Wendy.  They’re engaged now, by the way.  Isn’t that insane?  I mean, Cartman, engaged?  To Wendy of all people?”

“Insane,” Stan agreed.  “You still hang out with them?”

“I _live_ with them.  At least until they get married and finally move out.”

“You live with Eric Cartman?”

“Sure do.  Don’t really know why, since Cartman’s still an asshole.  They’re family, I guess.”

“And Kenny?” Stan asked hesitantly.  “You talk to him ever?”

“Oh, yeah.  He’s living here in town.  Bought a house a few years ago.”

“Yeah?  You know, I’m actually supposed to meet him.  You happen to know his address?”

“Sure,” Kyle replied, as Stan procured a notepad and a Sharpie from his duffel bag.  “What are you meeting Kenny for?” he asked, as he scrawled down the address.

“Just this deal we made graduation day.  I was supposed to track him down ten years later.  And here I am, ten years later.”

“Oh.  Well, he lives in that new development by the elementary school.  He’s home all day, so you can find him anytime.”  Kyle handed the notepad over.

“Thanks.  I think…You know, I might just head over there now.”

“Right.”  Kyle stood up.  “We should meet up later.  Have dinner or something.”

“Okay…” Stan agreed hesitantly.

“Bring Kenny and Craig with you.  We can all catch up.”

“Craig?” Stan repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Yeah.  Didn’t you know?  He’s living with Kenny.  They’re…partners…or whatever.”

“ _Partners_?”

“Yeah.  For a long time now.  They’re even trying to adopt a kid.”

“Kenny and _Craig_?”

“I know, right?  I was surprised too.  I mean, did you have any idea that Kenny was gay?”

Stan stared down at his lap.  “I had no idea.”

* * *

 

**March, 2001**

Kenny watched the boy sitting across from him as he gazed across the cafeteria at his ex-best friend.  It was pathetic, really, how desperately Stan always looked at Kyle.  Pathetic, but cute, Kenny decided.  Stan was a lot of things, but he was nothing if not adorable.

“You should talk to him,” Kenny advised.

Stan jerked to attention.  “Who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Who?  Kyle?  I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Sure,” Kenny replied.  “That’s why you’ve been watching him for thirty minutes.”

“I wasn’t…I was just…”

“You miss him,” Kenny cut him off.  “Admit it, Stan.  Kyle’s still your best friend.”

“He’s not,” Stan insisted.  “We haven’t spoken all year.”

“You’ve been _avoiding_ him all year.  But that doesn’t mean he’s not still the first person you want to talk to when something big happens.”

“Not true.  You’re the only one I can talk to about…you know…”

“Being gay?”

“Shh!”

“Chill, Stan.  No one can hear us.”

Stan went back to watching Kyle, who was sharing food across the table with his girlfriend while Cartman and Wendy had a heated argument beside them.  Kenny watched the debate almost wistfully.  As crazy as it was, he actually missed that fat asshole.  He missed all of his friends, really.  A year ago, he’d have been sitting right there with them, listening to Cartman as he said sexist and despicable things just to get Wendy riled up.  But everything changed after Kyle started dating Bebe.  Now Kenny and Stan sat by themselves, watching their old friends from across the room.

Kenny turned to Stan.  “Do you like him?”

“Who?  Kyle?”

“Is that why you’re afraid to talk to him?  Because you like him?”

“I like _you_ , Kenny.”

Kenny rolled his eyes.  “Stan, I’m not gonna be offended if you say you like Kyle.  It’s okay if you do.”

“Kenny…”

“I’m just saying I know what this is.  You and me, I mean.  I know we’re not in love or anything.”

“How do you know I’m not in love with you?”

Kenny crossed his arms.  “Are you?”

“Well…I…”

“You’re with me because I’m gay, Stan.  Plain and simple.  Every other guy you know is straight, so I’m your best option.”

“Well… It’s not like you’re a _bad_ option.”

“You don’t have to feel bad about it.  I’m with you for the same reason.  Which is why I’d be okay with it if you admit you like Kyle.”

“I _don’t_ like Kyle.”

Kenny frowned.  “Okay.  Fine.  You don’t like Kyle.”

Kenny turned to his lunch as Stan continued to watch Kyle from across the cafeteria.  Somehow Stan’s denial bothered him more than if he’d just admit it.  It made it seem like this whole thing was even more complicated than he thought.  As if things weren’t complicated enough.

* * *

 

“Eric Cartman, that is the most misogynistic thing I’ve ever heard, even from you!”

“I’m just telling it like it is.  Date rape isn’t real rape.  It’s just when the girl regrets it in the morning.”

“So if by some miracle, a girl agreed to go on a date with you, she’d automatically be consenting to have sex with you?”

Bebe placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder.  “Wends, don’t start with him.  Please.”

“I didn’t start this.  He did.”

Cartman leaned across the table.  “All I’m saying is that if a girl goes to a party with a guy dressed like a skank…”

“Why’s the guy dressed like a skank?” Kyle asked, sipping his Coke.

“…and she starts drinking and dancing like a bimbo, she’s clearly asking for it.”

“I don’t care how she’s dressed.  It doesn’t make her vagina public property.  ‘No’ means ‘no’.”

“Don’t be naïve, Wendy.  Sometimes ‘no’ means ‘yes’.”

“Cartman, you jackass!”

“Wendy, don’t let him get to you.  We all know he’s only saying this shit because no girl would agree to have sex with him _ever_.  Sober or drunk.”

“Fuck you, Bebe!”

“It’s true,” Kyle muttered, snagging a pineapple chunk from Bebe’s tray.

Cartman crossed his arms childishly.  “I hate you guys.”

“Then why do you hang out with us?” Kyle asked.  “We obviously hate you too.”

“It was either you three or Kenny and Stan, and I’d rather eat lunch with a Jew and his bitches than a couple of fags.  At least you can’t catch Jew.”

“You can’t catch gay either,” Wendy pointed out.  “And we’re not his bitches.”

“For the last time, Stan and Kenny aren’t gay,” Kyle muttered around a mouthful of pineapple.  “They’re just assholes.  Stan is, anyways.”

Bebe reached across the table for Kyle’s hand.  “Come on, Ky, you don’t really believe that.”

“Yes I do.  What else do you call a guy who just stops talking to the guy he’s called his best friend for sixteen years?  No explanation, just deleted, blocked, erased.  The end.”

Cartman feigned a pout.  “Aw, Kywie misses his buddy.”

“Fuck off, Cartman.”

“What?  It’s true and you know it.  No matter how much you say you hate him, you still wish Stan was your best friend.”

“I do not.  If he never wants to talk to me again, that’s perfectly fine.”

“It’s his loss,” Bebe said, rubbing his hand.

“You say that now,” Cartman replied.  “But when you’re really upset about something, and you want to talk to someone, whose number do you want to dial first?  It’s not your girlfriend’s.  It’s not her bitch of a best friend’s.”

“Hey!”

“And it certainly isn’t mine.  Be honest, Kyle.  You know who you want to call.”

Kyle’s gaze wandered past Cartman, to the isolated pair sitting across the cafeteria.  To his surprise, Stan was staring right back.

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“Cartman is a better name than Testaburger.  There.  I said it.”

“For the last time, Eric, I am not taking your last name.”

“Why the hell not?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, slinging his jacket on the coat rack.  His roommates argued just as much as they did back in high school.  The only difference now was that they had very passionate, very _loud_ makeup sex afterwards.  Which was, it should go without saying, even worse to listen to than the fighting.

Their most frequent argument since the engagement was on the subject of Wendy’s last name.  As with most of their disagreements, it was one Cartman was sure to lose, but that didn’t stop him from bringing it up on a daily basis.

“Because I don’t want to be Mrs. Cartman!  Your mother is Mrs. Cartman.”

“And what do you have against my mother?”

“Nothing!  I have nothing against your mother.  I just don’t want to be her.”

“Your mother’s a whore, Cartman!” Kyle called from the doorway.

“Fuck you!”

“Hey Kyle,” Wendy greeted him.  “How was work?”

“Sucked,” Kyle replied, making his way to the couch.  “As usual.  How was wedding planning?”

“Wendy got the final decision on everything,” Cartman muttered.  “As usual.”

“It’s not my fault you have awful taste,” Wendy snapped.  “Your choices are all stupid.”

“I chose you, bitch.”

Kyle nodded.  “Cartman has a point,” he admitted.  “And more importantly, _you_ chose _him_.  So maybe it’s your judgment we should be questioning.”

“Yeah!” Cartman agreed whole-heartedly.

“He was insulting you, Sweetie.”

Kyle rolled his eyes.  “I don’t even know why I still hang out with you two.”

“Neither do we,” Cartman replied, standing up and wandering toward the kitchen.  “You’re just a third wheel ever since Bebe took off.”

“Eric, get me a soda!” Wendy called after her fiancée.  She turned to face Kyle, pulling her knees up to her chest.  “Speaking of Bebe…”

“You heard from her?” Kyle asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“She’s coming for the wedding,” Wendy replied.  “And she might be coming to the reunion too.”

“She might not make it?”

“She said it’s complicated.  Apparently she has a lot going on, but she was being all mysterious about it.  Have you talked to her at all lately?”

“Not since we broke up,” Kyle replied.  “Which was in college.  So no.”

“And he hasn’t been with a woman since,” Cartman said, reappearing from the kitchen, juggling a can of Pepsi, a bottle of Budweiser, a bag of Cheesy Poofs and a package of deli-sliced salami.

“Thanks, Babe,” Wendy said, taking the Pepsi from Cartman as he plopped down on the couch beside her.

“So, speaking of the reunion…and people I haven’t spoken to in ages…you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

“Was it Token?” Cartman asked, sipping his beer.  “I heard his parents cut him off after he flunked out of college and now he’s bar-tending in Denver.”

“Really?  I heard his parents cut him off after he dropped out of college to open a strip club in Denver, and he got rich again and married one of his strippers.”

“Wendy, don’t ruin this for me.”

“It wasn’t Token,” Kyle cut in.  “It was Stan.”

Wendy’s eyebrows shot up.  “You saw Stan?”

“Did he actually talk to you or did he hide behind Kenny?”

“We talked.  A little.  He’s here for the reunion.”

“That jackass!” Wendy cried.  “He can’t RSVP my wedding invite, but he hauls his ass all the way here for a stupid class reunion?”

“We’re meeting later.  For dinner with Kenny and Craig.  You guys should come.”

“Why would we want to share a meal with two fags, a Jew and a hermit?”

“Because it will be the old group back together again?  And because it’s gonna be awkward as hell for Stan?”

Cartman considered this for a moment before nodding.  “Okay.  I’m in.”


	2. That Was the Plan

**May, 2011**

Stan stepped up to the covered porch, checking the slip of paper in his hand one last time.  Yes, this was definitely the address Kyle had given him.  Still, he found it hard to believe that his dirt-poor childhood friend Kenny McCormick lived in this middle-class home, with freshly-mown grass, a garage and a green welcome mat.  He reached out his fist to knock on the mahogany door, but drew it back when he noticed the doorbell.  He stared.  Kenny McCormick had a doorbell.  Imagine that.

He pressed it and listened to the soft ringing and the sound of shuffling feet.  Finally, the knob turned and the door swung open to reveal a thin, pale man with a pile of unkempt dirty blond hair and a can of Budweiser in his hand.  Stan nearly laughed at the sight of him.  You could take Kenny out of the ghetto, he concluded, but you couldn’t take the ghetto out of Kenny.

“Why, Stanly Marsh,” the man greeted him with a grin.  “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you.”

“Mind if I come in?” Stan replied.

Kenny swung the door open wide to make way for him.  “Absolutely.  Make yourself comfortable.”

Stan stepped inside and glanced around.  There was a young boy planted in front of the TV playing a racing game on the Xbox.  Stan raised his eyebrows at Kenny.

“Oh, he’s not mine,” Kenny said.  “That one belongs to the lesbians next door.  He’s in my fourth grade class.  I just watch him while he’s not in school.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“Told you I was gonna be, didn’t I?  Andrew, say hi to Stan.”

“Hi, Stan,” the boy said, not tearing his eyes from the TV screen.

“Summer vacation just started, so it’s just Drew and me here all day.  I don’t get a lot of adult company.  The hubby’s at work right now.  Gets pretty quiet.”

“I heard you got married,” Stan replied, following Kenny to the sofa.

“Well, civil union.  It’s the gay equivalent.  Gay marriage still isn’t legal in Colorado.”

“But it’s pretty much the same thing,” Stan argued.  “I mean, you have the same rights.”

“Ever heard the term ‘Separate but Equal’, Stan?”

“Point taken,” Stan replied, taking a seat.  “So I hear you’re adopting a kid.”

“Trying,” Kenny replied, sitting next to him.  “We’ve been trying for a long time, actually.  That’s why we bought this house.  We just figured it was time, you know?  I’ve gotta pop out a few babies before I’m thirty and too old to get my figure back.”

“Well, it seems like you’re doing well for yourself.  I never saw you as the domestic type.”

“Mr. McCormick…” the boy said, dropping his controller and turning around.

“I told you, it’s Uncle Kenny when we’re not at school.”

The boy nodded.  “Uncle Kenny, can I play _Fear_?”

“ _May I_ , Drew.”

“May I play _Fear_ , Uncle Kenny?”

“Is that one of the games your moms told me not to let you play?”

Andrew nodded.

Kenny sighed.  “Don’t tell Donna.”

The boy jumped up and snatched a game from Kenny’s bookshelf.  Kenny placed his hands on his knees and looked back at Stan expectantly.  “So, are you gonna tell me why you’re here, Stan?  You still hung up on me or something?”

Stan’s jaw dropped.  “I…well I…”

Kenny smiled softly.  “That was a joke, Stanley.  I knew even back in high school that you didn’t really like me.”

Stan frowned.  “That’s not true, Ken.”

“It’s been ten years.  Let’s not lie about it anymore.”

Stan sighed.  “You remember that deal we made on graduation day?”

Kenny laughed.  “How could I forget?”

“Well, I’m always one to honor an agreement.  That’s why I came back for this stupid reunion.”

“Well, as per the conditions to our agreement, our contract is void, obviously.”

Stan nodded.  “Of course.  That’s what I thought you’d say.”

“What about you?” Kenny asked.

“What about me, what?”

“Are you still in love with Kyle?”

* * *

 

**April, 2001**

“My scholarship package came in the mail today.”

Stan glanced up from the _Twilight Zone_ episode that played on his TV to look at Kenny.  “Scholarship package?”

“Yes, scholarships.  Don’t act so surprised.  I scored above average on my ACT.”

“You took the ACT?”

“Of course I took the ACT.  How else would I get into college?”

“I didn’t even know you wanted to go to college.”

“Well I don’t want to end up a loser like my dad,” Kenny replied.  “I want to be able to provide for my family someday.”

“Family?”

“I don’t understand why this is all coming as such a shock to you.”

“I’m sorry, Kenny,” Stan said, turning back to the TV.  “I just didn’t realize you wanted all that.”

“I do.  I want _all_ of it.”

“But you’re gay.”

Kenny shrugged.  “So?”

“Come on.  Gay people can’t have families, Ken.”

Kenny looked offended.  “We can too.  And I intend to.  You know, gay marriage just became legal in the Netherlands.”

Stan laughed.  “So you’re gonna move to the Netherlands to start a family?”

“No, Stan.  I’m gonna wait for it to be legal here.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“You of little faith…”

“I don’t have little faith,” Stan retorted.  “My faith is nine inches long.”

Kenny rolled his eyes.  “I’ll bet you ten years from now, gays will be allowed to marry in Colorado.”

“Whatever you say, Kenny,” Stan replied, sitting back on the couch.

Kenny looked back at the TV, sighing.  “This show is predictable,” he mumbled.  “The chick with the thimble is a mannequin.”

“Dude!” Stan cried.  “Spoilers!”

“Oh, come on.  Like it wasn’t totally obvious.”

Stan glowered, holding out his hand to Kenny.  “So let’s see your scholarship letter then.”

Kenny dug the slightly crumpled paper out of his back pocket and handed it over.  Stan glanced down the page.

“Wayne State?  I’ve never even heard of it.”

“It’s in Nebraska.”

Stan wrinkled his nose.  “Gross.”  He looked over the document boredly.  “You’re majoring in education?”

“I want to teach grade school.  Haven’t I told you that?”

“You’re gonna be an elementary teacher?”

“Yeah.”

Stan laughed.  “Dude, gay men can’t teach grade school.”

“What are you talking about, Stan?  _We_ had a gay teacher in elementary school.”

“And he was the most unfit teacher in history.”

Kenny snatched the paper back from Stan.  “Well _I’m_ gonna be a good teacher.  Asshole.”

“Okay.  No need to get worked up over it.  I’m sure you’ll be as wonderful a teacher and caregiver as any straight woman.”

“Shut up.  I’m sure your plans for after high school are so much better.”

“Actually, they’re not.  Because I don’t have a plan.”

“Seriously?  You don’t know what you’re doing after you graduate?”

“Well, first I’m gonna get the hell out of South Park,” Stan said.  “I haven’t thought any further than that.”

“ _I’m a mannequin_ ,” the woman on Stan’s TV said.  “ _That’s what I am.  I’m a mannequin_.”

“Called it.”

* * *

 

“Hold still, Kyle.”

“My butt is going numb!” Kyle complained, shifting uncomfortably on his stool.

“Just a few more minutes,” Bebe promised, peeking around her easel.  “I’m almost finished, I swear.”

Kyle groaned.  “I’m sorry, it’s just that usually when a girl invites her boyfriend over when her parents are out and asks him to strip down to his boxers, it’s not so she can _draw_ him.”

“You’re my best model.  Wendy wouldn’t even take her shirt off for me the last time she modeled for me.”

“That bitch.  She won’t take her shirt off for me either.”

Bebe laughed.  “Shut up, Kyle.”

“I’ll bet Cartman would take his shirt off.  Hell, he might even be willing to go all-out nude.  You know, for the sake of art.”

“He has.  Several times.  You wanna see those drawings?  They’re pretty sexy…”

“I’ll pass.  Thanks, though.”

Bebe set down her charcoal.  She wiped her blackened fingertips off on her jeans and looked back up at Kyle nervously.

“I, uh, sent a portfolio to RISD.”

“RISD?”

“Rhode Island School of Design.”

“ _Rhode Island_?”

“To be honest, I didn’t think anything would come of it.”

Kyle scooted off of his stool.  “ _Did_ something come of it?”

“You could say that.”  Bebe smiled sheepishly.  “I got in.”

“You got in?  I don’t get it.  You actually want to go there?”

“It’s the number one art school in the country, Kyle.”

“But what about Boulder?  It was gonna be the four of us.  You, me, Wendy and the fatass.  That was the plan.”

“And it’s a great plan.  For you.  CU has a great law program.  But that plan was never right for me.  I want to study art.”

Kyle raked a hand through his curls.  “What does this mean for us?”

Bebe picked up a can of hairspray that sat at her feet and began spraying over her drawing.  “We can make it work, Kyle.  I’ll call you every day.  And I won’t be gone forever.  I’ll come home for summer.  And Christmas.  Thanksgiving.”

Kyle grabbed his T-shirt off the floor and tugged it over his head.  “Great.”

“Kyle, everything will be fine.  You’ll see.  And I don’t leave until August.  We’ll have the whole summer to spend together.”

Kyle sighed and pointed half-heartedly at her easel.  “Can I see?”

Bebe waved him over, and he walked over to her, standing behind her and peering over her shoulder at the drawing.

“It’s incredible,” he admitted with a sigh.

Bebe smiled proudly.  “I finally got your hair right.”

Kyle wrapped his arms around Bebe’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.  “It’s your best work yet,” he murmured.  “Rhode Island will be lucky to have you.”

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“So I’m helping seven-month pregnant Donna return a stroller at the department store, and this lady walks up to us and starts asking Donna, like, how far along she is and shit,” Kenny said.  “And then she turns to me and says, ‘You two are such a lovely couple.’”

“You have to understand,” Craig cut in.  “Donna’s the butchest dyke you’ve ever seen.  She could bench press Kenny.”

“Exactly,” Kenny agreed.  “So I’m like, ‘Lady, are you kidding me?  You think I’m married to this woman?  If we had a kid together, _I’d_ be the one carrying the baby.  And I am simply not gay enough to handle a penis the size of Donna’s.’”

Kyle laughed.  He could never get over how openly—nay, how _proudly_ Kenny talked about being gay.  Like he had nothing to apologize for.  He _didn’t_ have anything to apologize for, of course.  It just seemed strange to Kyle, that Kenny could graduate high school a seemingly straight, slightly withdrawn eighteen-year-old, ship off to Nebraska for four years, and return to South Park the picture of gay pride.

He looked from Kenny to Stan.  Now _there_ was the real mystery.  Here he was, still as guarded as he was their senior year of high school.  The six of them had been sitting in their booth at the diner for an hour, and Stan had yet to say a word to Kyle.  He wouldn’t even look at him.  How could Stan disappear for ten years and return to South Park exactly the same as when he left?

Part of him wanted to still be mad at Stan.  After all, it had hurt when his best friend blew him off for reasons he still hadn’t explained.  But it was over ten years ago, and Kyle figured there was a grace period on this type of wrongdoing.  After all, he had apologized.  Kind of.

Actually, now that Kyle thought about it, as soon as he’d brought up their senior year, Stan had dropped the subject and brought up Kyle’s ex-girlfriend instead.

Who was he kidding?  Kyle was still pissed.

He nudged Cartman, who turned to glare at him sharply.  Kyle simply nodded toward Stan, who was sitting across from him, trying to disappear into the corner of the booth.

Cartman rolled his eyes.  “So, Stan,” he chirped.

Stan jumped out of his seat.  “What?”

“What’s the deal, man?  We haven’t seen you in ten years.  What’s going on with you?”

“Oh, you know.  Just been…working and stuff.”

Stan scratched the back of his neck—a sure sign that he was lying.

“What about you, Cartman?”

Changing the subject.  Another sign that he was lying.  Ten years, and Kyle still recognized all of Stan’s tells.

“I’m engaged,” Cartman replied simply.

“I sent you an invitation,” Wendy added.

Stan lowered his head.  “Right.  That probably got…lost in the mail.”

“Uh huh,” Cartman muttered.  “So what do you do, Stan?  You have a girlfriend in California?  Any new hobbies?  And, by the way, why were such a dick senior year?”

“I…um…” Stan sputtered.

“Cartman, god,” Kenny muttered.

“What?  Kyle was clearly dying to know but is obviously too much of a pussy to ask Stan himself.”

“If Stan doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t have to.”

“Stan can speak for himself, Kenny,” Stan replied, placing a hand on the blond’s shoulder.

Kenny rolled his eyes.  “Barely.”

The next few minutes of awkward silence were filled with the clanging of forks against dishes.  Stan swirled the ice around in his glass.  Craig rolled a cherry tomato onto Kenny’s plate.  Cartman swatted Wendy’s hand away as she attempted to spear one of his meatballs onto her fork.  Kyle picked at his lasagna.  He peeked up at Stan, who happened to look at him at that exact moment.  Their eyes met briefly before darting back to their respective plates.

“So, Kyle,” Wendy spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” Kyle responded, looking up at his roommate.

“What are you gonna do if you see Bebe at the reunion?”

Kyle blushed.  “I don’t know.  We broke up years ago.”

“So there are no leftover feelings there at all?”

“I don’t think so.  But, I mean, part of me is kind of hoping that things will just…fall back into place.”

Stan choked on his roll.

“Why?” Kyle asked.

“Because,” Wendy said.  “Bebe is here.”

Kyle peered over at the doorway, where a blonde woman stood with her back to their table.  All he could see of her was a messy blonde ponytail and the coattails of what looked to be an oversized men’s tuxedo jacket, but there was no mistaking her.  It was Bebe.

Then she turned around.  She looked different—older—and she donned a pair of wire-rimmed glasses now, but she was still as beautiful as ever.

She was also very, very pregnant.


	3. Stupid in Love

**May, 2011**

“I hope you haven’t booked a hotel room, because you’re obviously staying with us,” Wendy said, ushering Bebe into their apartment.

Kyle rubbed his arm uneasily, shuffling over to the sofa and taking a seat.  The day’s numerous blasts from the past were proving to be too much for him, with both Stan and Bebe returning to his life.  Fucking class reunions.

“Sit,” Wendy insisted, leading Bebe to the seat beside Kyle.  “Put your feet up or whatever.  Do you want something to drink?  We have soda and beer…”  She trailed off, shaking her head softly.  “What am I thinking?  You can’t drink…”

“Water would be great,” Bebe cut her off.  She placed a hand on Wendy’s shoulder.  “And there’s no need to fret over me.  I’m pregnant, not dying.”

“Look at you, such a good little homemaker,” Cartman cooed, ruffling Wendy’s hair.

She narrowed her eyes.  “Eric, get Bebe a glass of water.”

Cartman opened his mouth to protest, but apparently thought better of it before stalking off to the kitchen.

Wendy took a seat on the couch, on the opposite end from Kyle.  Bebe sat between them, offering Kyle a thin smile.  It was a comfort to know that she was feeling as awkward as he was.

Perhaps it was good that she was here.  Maybe it was necessary for closure, or whatever.  He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since their abrupt and somewhat unanticipated breakup over the phone during his sophomore year of college.

The truth was Kyle had never gone through the typical post-breakup stages.  He’d been upset, sure, but he’d never gotten angry or acted out.  He was too level-headed for that sort of thing.  He handled the breakup gracefully and maturely.

But maybe all of that post-breakup stuff was necessary.  Maybe the reason he hadn’t been in a relationship since Bebe was that he never allowed himself to get over her.  Aside from a brief affair with one of his law school buddies a few years later—which he classified as pure experimentation and disclosed to no one but Kenny, his least judgmental and most homosexual friend—he’d never even slept with anyone but Bebe.

And now, here she was.  The only girlfriend he’d ever had.  The woman who had stolen his heart and his virginity.  Sitting beside him on his couch for the first time in years.  And it was like he was in high school again, trying to decide how to ask the girl he liked to the prom.

He wracked his brain for something—anything—to say.  He hadn’t spoken to her in eight years, so he wanted his first words to be meaningful.

“So.”

Okay, maybe not so much _meaningful_ as _verbally_ _brain-dead_.  But, hey, he’d spoken, so it was a start.

“You’re pregnant.”

And now he’d resorted to pointing out the obvious.

Bebe didn’t seem to mind.  She rubbed her belly happily.  “She’s due in six weeks.”

“It’s a girl?” Wendy gushed, clapping her hands excitedly.  “Oh my god, this is so exciting.  You have to tell me everything.”

Bebe laughed.  “Well, I get ridiculously weepy.  I crave chili, like, all the time.  My stomach itches like crazy.  And I feel fat.  Like, really, really fat.”

“You look good,” Kyle protested.

Bebe smiled at him.  “You’re sweet, Kyle.  But you don’t have to say that.”

“No, you do.  You’re like, glowing.  And stuff.”

Eloquent, Kyle.  Eloquent.

“Well thank you.”

“So, who’s the daddy?” Cartman asked, sauntering in from the kitchen with a glass of water and a bag of corn chips.  “Or is your daughter gonna be a bastard?”

“Like you?” Kyle shot back.

“Hey!”

“Actually,” Bebe spoke up.  “The father’s not in the picture anymore.”

Wendy’s eyes widened.  “What?”

Bebe sighed.  “Long story short:  We dated for a year, I thought I was in love with him, and now he’s back with his ex-wife and trying to weasel his way out of paying child support.”

“Oh, Bebe…”

“I’m fine though,” Bebe cut Wendy off.  “I mean, I don’t need him.  I have my mom and my studio in Providence…”  She rubbed her belly.  “We’re gonna be just fine on our own.”

Wendy put a hand on Bebe’s knee.  “Of course you are.”

Bebe cleared her throat.  “So, how is the future Mrs. Eric Cartman?”

“Ridiculously happy and getting laid regularly,” Cartman replied.

“And _keeping_ her last name, thank you very much,” Wendy added.

“Nothing’s really final yet,” Cartman told Bebe.

“Yes it is.  I’m keeping my name.”

“Wendy, we can discuss this later.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, Eric.  I’m _keeping_ my name.”

“They’re like this pretty much all the time,” Kyle told Bebe, as Wendy and Cartman continued to bicker.

Bebe grinned.  “So nothing’s changed.”

“Not with these two, no.”

She cocked her head to the side.  “What about you?”

Kyle shrugged.  “Well, you know.  Working for my dad’s firm.  It’s going really well.  I don’t really have time for relationships or whatever.”

“Oh,” Bebe replied in a tone of voice that Kyle couldn’t really interpret.

He scratched his knee.  “Not that I’d put up a fight if the right girl came along…”

“Oh?”

Kyle swallowed.  “I’m just not, you know, _looking_.  Or anything.”

Cartman paused his argument with Wendy to send Kyle an incredulous frown.  “Are you seriously trying it on a pregnant woman, Kyle?  Seriously, how long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?”

* * *

 

**April, 2001**

“ _Rhode Island_.  Can you believe that?  I mean, could she have chosen a farther school?”

“Red’s going to school in Germany…”

“ _Wendy_.”

“Not helping?”

Kyle scowled.  “Not really.”

Wendy sighed.  “Kyle, sit down.  That pacing is only making you more anxious and, quite frankly, it’s driving me nuts.”

Kyle perched himself on the end of Wendy’s bed and settled for jiggling his leg wildly.

“It’s just that, we had a plan, you know?”

“I guess Bebe had a different plan.  Come on, Kyle, could you really ask her to give up her dream school to go to Boulder with you?  You know if she stayed she’d resent you forever.”

“I guess.”

“I’m _proud_ of Bebe.  She’s really going for it.  She’s not doing what’s comfortable or what’s expected of her.  You should be proud of her too.”

“I am.  Of course I am, but…”  Kyle pouted.  “Rhode Island?”

“Hey, you think I’m happy about my best friend moving across the country and leaving me with you and Cartman?”

“Must you lump me with the fatass?”

“But high school is ending.  Things are changing.  That’s how it’s supposed to happen.”

“Well…maybe I’m not ready for things to change.”

Wendy patted his shoulder gently.  “Yeah, me neither.”

“Do you…?”  He shifted uncomfortably on Wendy’s bed.  “You don’t think she’s trying to get away from me, do you?”

“Kyle, don’t be stupid.”

“You know as well as I do that when it comes to love, it can be really hard not to be stupid.  Everyone’s stupid in love.”

Wendy frowned.  “Yeah.  Speaking of that…”

Kyle pulled his legs up into a cross-legged position on her bed, shifting to face her.  “What happened?”

“Token asked me to prom.”

“And you said yes?”

“I told him I’d think about it.”

“Wendy…”

Wendy winced.  “Don’t judge me, Kyle.”

“Judge you?  Who’s judging you?  I mean, just because you’ve made Token you’re fallback date because you’re holding out for Cartman…”

“I can’t help who I like, okay?  This crush is, like, God punishing me for that time I cheated on that Spanish test.”

“Even God is not that cruel, Wendy.”

Wendy shook her head sadly.  “God, we’re pathetic.  Kyle, you and I are pathetic.”

* * *

 

“Eric.  I haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

 “Too long, Mrs. Marsh.  You’re looking ravishing, as always.”

“Inappropriate, but thank you.  I don’t suppose Kyle is dropping by too.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Mrs. Marsh.  Is Stan home?”

Mrs. Marsh nodded.  “He’s up in his room with Kenny.”

“I’ll just get out of your hair then,” Cartman replied, inviting himself inside and making a beeline for the stairs.

“Be sure to knock, Eric,” Mrs. Marsh called after him.  “He likes for people to knock when he has Kenny over.”

“I’m sure he does,” Cartman mumbled under his breath as he bounded up the stairs.

He reached Stan’s bedroom door and threw it open.  Stan and Kenny were both sitting cross-legged on Stan’s bed, staring at the eleven-inch TV screen that sat atop Stan’s dresser.

“Sup, fags?”

“Hey, Cartman,” Kenny greeted, not tearing his eyes from the TV.

Stan looked up.  “How’d you get in here?”

“Your mom let me in.  She’s looking mighty fine these days, by the way.”

Stan rolled his eyes, turning back to the TV.

“What are you watching?”

“ _Billy Elliot_ ,” Kenny replied.

“You two are so fucking gay.”

Kenny shrugged.

“Shut up, Cartman.  We are not,” Stan shot back.

“Convincing, Stan,” Cartman replied, taking a seat beside Kenny on the bed.

“What are you doing here anyways?” Stan muttered.

“What, a guy can’t miss hanging out with his friends?”

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want anything to do with me and Kenny anymore.  Now that you’re Kyle’s new best friend.”

Cartman snorted.  “That’ll be the day.  Kyle’s a fucking vagina.  I only hang out with him because he hangs out with Wendy, who’s ridiculously hot.  And the fact that she’s a hormonal raging bitch only makes her hotter, somehow.”

“We should make a drinking game,” Kenny remarked, eyes still glued to the TV.  “Take a drink every time Cartman says something sexist.  Or racist.  Or homophobic.”

“Your parents are alcoholics, Kenny.”

“This is true.”

“So,” Stan said.  “How is Kyle?”

Kenny rolled his eyes.

“He’s a whiny little bitch,” Cartman replied.  “Especially lately.  It’s always, ‘ _Oh, Bebe’s moving to Rhode Island_ ,’ or ‘ _Oh, Stan doesn’t want to be my best friend anymore.’_   Fucking pathetic.”

Kenny tore his eyes away from the TV for the first time to send Stan a meaningful look.

Stan narrowed his eyes at the blond.  “What?”

“You should tell him, Stan.”

This piqued Cartman’s interest.  “Tell who what?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Stan muttered.

“Kyle misses you and you obviously miss him too, and you’re letting something stupid come between you guys.  The least you could do is let the poor guy know why you don’t talk to him anymore.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Stan snapped.

Kenny grunted, turning back to _Billy Elliot_.  “Well, you should talk to him anyways.  The guy deserves at least that much.”

Cartman shook his head.  “You two are a couple of drama queens.  You’re as bad as Kyle.”

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

Stan stood nervously in front of the apartment door, hoping to God the footsteps he heard approaching were Kyle’s.  He tapped his foot anxiously.

The knob turned, and suddenly Cartman appeared in the doorway looking sleepy and irritated.

“Stan?” he grunted, rubbing his eye.

“Is Kyle home?”

“It’s one in the morning.  He’s asleep.”

“Can you wake him up?  It’s kind of important.”

“Finally gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Cartman, please?”

Cartman rolled his eyes, swinging the door open wider to reveal a sleeping form on the sofa.

“He’s on the couch.  Have at it.  Just don’t suck his dick.  Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Why’s he sleeping on the couch?” Stan whispered.

“Bebe’s in his bed.”

“Oh.”

“No need to get upset, Stan.  He’s not in it with her.”

“Dude, I’m not in love with…”

“Stan?”

Both men turned to the sofa, where Kyle was now sitting up, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Cartman mumbled, fumbling back to his room.

Kyle dug around in the couch cushions until he unearthed his cell phone.  He flipped it open and checked the glowing screen.

“It’s one fourteen,” he muttered.  “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had to talk to you.”

Kyle scoffed.  “Eleven years of the cold shoulder and suddenly you want to talk?”

Stan shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Can I come in?”

Kyle sighed, making room on the couch.  Stan took this as a “yes” and stepped inside.  He sat down beside Kyle stiffly.

“Nice place.”

“Is that what you came over in the middle of the night to talk about?”

Stan sighed.  “Actually, I came here to apologize.”

“Yeah?”

“Kyle, I’m sorry.  I acted like an asshole.  You didn’t deserve that.”

Kyle was silent for a moment.  Stan watched him intently, wishing he would look back at him.

“Well, it was a long time ago,” Kyle said at last.

“I wish I could explain it,” Stan murmured.  “I was just going through a really confusing stage.  And then you started dating Bebe…”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.  Nothing.  It was just…hard to be around you.”

“Did I do something?”

“No!  God, no.  You were…the best.  I was just a jerk.”

Kyle stared at his lap for a moment.  Finally, he looked up, meeting Stan’s gaze.

“Stan, I really want to be friends again.”

Friends.  Stan swallowed hard.  He wanted so much more than that.

He stared back at Kyle.  His friend.  After ten years away from him, he’d thought the feeling would have gone away.  For a while, he thought it did.  But now he was back in South Park, and it was too easy to fall back into those old feelings.  They were back and stronger than ever, and it only made Stan want to run away all over again.

“So do I,” he said instead.

Kyle leaned forward and pulled Stan into a warm embrace.  Stan welcomed the hug, breathing in the smell of Kyle’s hair.  As much as he’d changed over the past ten years, Kyle still smelled like _Kyle_.  Stan slid his hands up and brushed his fingers against the hairline on Kyle’s neck.  Kyle shuddered, pulling back.

“Sorry,” Stan whispered, pulling his hands away.

“It’s late,” Kyle replied.

“I should go.”

Kyle met Stan’s eyes, his hand tracing lightly down Stan’s back.  Their faces were mere inches apart.  If he wanted to, Stan could just lean forward and…

Kyle released Stan from the embrace, standing up quickly.

“Yeah,” he breathed.  “You should go.”


	4. No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be planning a prequel/sequel about Kenny and Craig's backstory that's revealed in this chapter.

 

**May, 2011**

“It’s so much easier to be a dyke than a fag.”

Kyle chuckled.  “Is that a fact?”

“I swear to God, lesbians get everything handed to them,” Kenny insisted.

“Kenny’s experiencing what we call ‘womb envy’,” Craig explained.

Kyle and Stan had spent all morning at Kenny’s house.  They were meant to be “catching up”, but really they were just listening to Kenny’s numerous anecdotes about his lesbian neighbors and his attitude on the quality of gay life.

Craig didn’t have much to say, though he never really seemed to.  Kyle figured that was why he and Kenny worked so well together.  Kenny liked the sound of his own voice, and Craig was content to let him ramble for hours.

As for Stan—Kyle turned to look at the other man—even after his apology the previous night, he still seemed secretive and distant.  He didn’t quite know what to make of it.

He also didn’t know what to make of the feeling he got in his stomach every time he looked at Stan.  Last night had been…weird, to say the least.  He was not gay.  Kyle knew without a doubt that he was not.  But he and Stan had definitely had a…  Ugh.  He didn’t want to call it a “moment”, because it certainly didn’t support his “definitely not gay” idea.  He’d just momentarily had some foreign, non-platonic feelings for Stan.  But that didn’t mean he liked the guy, and it certainly didn’t make him gay.

He needed to talk to Kenny about it.  Kenny was good with this sort of thing.

“Womb envy is right,” Kenny said.  “Donna and April are about to have their second kid, and all they had to do was get April’s brother to jack off into a cup.  Meanwhile, Craig and I can’t even have one kid.”

“I’m sure being a lesbian isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Kyle offered.

“At least we don’t have to eat pussy,” Craig pointed out.

“Excellent point.”

“Or wear flannel.”

“Even better point.”

Stan cocked his head to the side.  “How is wearing flannel worse than eating pussy?”

Kenny grimaced.  “Have you seen me in flannel?  I look like a gay lumberjack.”

“Is wearing flannel an actual requirement for being a lesbian?” Kyle wondered.

“I don’t know.  I’ll check my lesbian handbook.”

A buzzing from his jeans startled Kyle from the conversation, and he dug into his back pocket to retrieve his phone.  He flipped it open, reading the message from Bebe.

_Do they always get like this when they argue?_

Kyle rolled his eyes, typing in his reply.

_Like a couple of kids? Yes_

“Who’s that?” Kenny asked, nodding toward Kyle’s phone.

“Bebe.”  Kyle didn’t miss Stan’s subtle eye roll as this response.  “I’m sorry, do you have a problem with Bebe?”

Stan held up his hands.  “What?  No.  She’s a very nice lady.”

“Uh huh,” Kyle muttered, flipping open his phone as it buzzed once again.

_Does Ctman always threaten 2 call off the engagement?_

_Only when she calls him fat_ , Kyle replied.

“She’s spending the day with Cartman and Wendy,” Kyle explained, flipping his phone shut.  “I should have warned her about how often they fight.  I don’t think she’s prepared to deal with it in her state.”

Kenny frowned.  “Jesus, everyone’s having babies.  It’s like the world is trying to rub my face in it.  Why didn’t God give Craig a uterus?”

“Are you implying that I’m the woman in this relationship?”

“Was it ever a question, honey?”

“Fuck off.”

Kyle phone vibrated a third time, and he read Bebe’s message.

_Theyre making out now. Is that normal?_

“Oh, God,” he muttered, standing up.  “I have to go, you guys.  Crisis at home.”

“Are Cartman and Wendy killing each other?” Stan asked.

“Worse,” Kyle replied.  “They’re about to have sex.  Bebe doesn’t need her unborn child’s fully-developed ears subjected to _that_.”

* * *

 

**April, 2001**

“The green light is a recurring symbol here,” Mr. Pontrelli droned, pacing back and forth in front of the class.  “Can anyone tell me what it represents?”

From the corner of her eye, Bebe saw Wendy’s hand shoot into the air.  She rolled her eyes, crouching over her notebook to doodle herself as a flapper in the margins.

“The green light represents Gatsby’s longing for Daisy,” Wendy said.

Bebe added a string of pearls around Doodle-Bebe’s neck.

“That’s a start.  Would anyone like to add to that?  Eric?”

“The green light doesn’t just represent his longing for Daisy.  It stands for all of his hopes and dreams.  In a way, it stands for…” Cartman took a dramatic pause.  “…all of our hopes and dreams.”

“Very good, Eric.”

Bebe didn’t need to look up from her doodle to see Wendy cross her arms and pout as Cartman shot her a gloating smirk.

“Any other thoughts?” Mr. Pontrelli asked, scanning the room.  “Bebe?”

Bebe looked up from her notebook, caught off guard.  “Huh?”

“Do you have any thoughts?”

“I was just thinking about how cute I would look in one of those flapper dresses.”

Mr. Pontrelli frowned.  “Right.  Thank you for your input, Miss Stevens.”

“No problem,” Bebe replied, going back to her notebook.

She was in the middle of drawing a wavy blonde bob onto Doodle-Bebe when Kyle leaned over and whispered, “Bebe, what’s up?”

Bebe set her pencil down and turned to him.  “Do you think I should bob my hair?” she replied.

“Bebe, we’re in lit class.”

“Kyle, we graduate in a month.  I already got into RISD.  I honestly don’t care about symbolism in _The Great Gatsby_.  The only people who do are Wendy and Cartman and that’s only because they’re constantly competing with each other.”

“High school’s not over yet.  I don’t understand why everyone is in such a big hurry to get out of here.”

“Don’t take it personally, Kyle.  We’re in a hurry to get away from this school, not from you.”

Kyle shook his head.  “That’s not it…”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not ready for things to change.  Everyone else is so eager to be on their own and I feel like I still need four more years of my mother telling me to sit up straight and finish my homework before I watch TV.”

Bebe smiled.  “You’re gonna be fine, Ky.  And you won’t be on your own.”

“Won’t I?”

“You’ll have Cartman.”

Kyle scowled at her.  “Ha ha,” he whispered dryly.

“Seriously, though.  No one in this school is more ready to face the real world than you, Mr. Future Lawyer.”

Kyle sighed.  “I guess.”

He glanced over his shoulder, and Bebe turned around to meet his gaze.  Stan and Kenny were sitting in the back of class, as usual, not-so-discreetly passing notes.

“I talked to Kenny this morning,” Kyle whispered.  “He told me Stan’s leaving for California right after graduation.”

“You don’t think he’ll leave without saying goodbye, do you?”

“Why shouldn’t he?  He hasn’t spoken to me all year.”

“You’re best friends.”

“We _were_ best friends.  Face it, Bebe.  Stan’s gotten totally weird.  There’s no going back to the way things were.”

“What do you suppose he’s running away from?”

“Who says he’s running away?”

“You don’t just pack up and move out of state as soon as you graduate unless you’re running away from something.”

Kyle bit his lip.  “Or someone,” he whispered.

“Yeah.  Or someone.”

* * *

 

_My parents are going away this weekend._

_Sounds like an invitation._

_Indeed it is, Stanley.  What do you say?_

Stan glanced up at Kyle, who was leaning so close to Bebe he could lick her face if he wanted to.  Though Stan couldn’t fathom why the fuck he’d want to.  What did he see in Bebe?

 _Sure_ , he scrawled, before passing the note back to Kenny.

Kenny scribbled something down and slipped the paper back to Stan.

_What do you think those two are whispering about?_

Stan scowled.

_I thought you were gonna try to seduce me, not bring up Kyle and Bebe._

He folded the note and tossed it back to Kenny.  The blond smoothed out the page and read it, then turned to Stan and rolled his eyes.

“ _What_?” Stan mouthed.

Kenny jotted down a response and passed it back.

_You’re the one who can’t stop staring at them._

Now that was hardly fair.  How could he not stare at them?  They were having a moment in the middle of American Lit.  It was a wonder anyone could pay attention to the discussion of symbolism in _The Great Gatsby_ when those two were having a cozy little conversation right in the center of the room.

 _They’re just distracting me_ , he wrote, passing the note back to Kenny.

Kenny took a while to respond, but when Stan got the reply, it was short and to the point.

 _I talked to Kyle about you_.

_You did what?_

_He was asking about you.  You should talk to him._

_God.  Can’t you just stay the fuck out of it?_

_I can’t.  I’m involved.  Anyways, I’m allowed to have an opinion._

Stan sighed.

_What did Kyle say?_

_He’s upset._

_Of course he’s upset.  His girlfriend is moving to Rhode Island and he’s about to spend 7 years on a law degree he doesn’t want._

_He’s upset that you’re leaving._

Stan peeked up at Kyle.  He did seem upset.  He hated to be the cause of that.  Though, lately, he always seemed to be.

 _He’ll get over it_ , he replied.

“Is there something you two would like to share with the class?”

Both boys jumped in their seats, startled by Mr. Pontrelli’s voice.  For a moment, Stan thought they’d been caught.  When he looked up, though, he saw that Mr. Pontrelli was addressing Kyle and Bebe.

“I’m, uh, thinking about getting a haircut,” Bebe announced.  “Like Daisy’s in the movie.”

“Well maybe you should save this discussion for lunch.”

Bebe nodded.  “Sorry, sir.”

“Sorry,” Kyle echoed.

“Okay then.  Moving on.  What’s the meaning behind the Valley of Ashes?”

As Wendy’s hand shot into the air, the note landed back on Stan’s desk.  Stan unfolded it, smoothing it out and reading Kenny’s message.

_I’m upset that you’re leaving._

Stan frowned.

_Why?  You’re leaving too.  You’re going to college in Nebraska._

_But I’m coming back_ , was Kenny’s reply.  _Once you’re out of here, you’re gone for good._

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“So,” Stan muttered awkwardly.  “You and Kenny.”

In all the years he had known him, Stan didn’t remember once having a one-on-one conversation with Craig.  High school Craig had been somewhat of a recluse.  Stan was creeped out by him back then, the way he always seemed to be observing his classmates from afar.

Now that he thought about it, it didn’t actually surprise him that Craig was gay.  He wasn’t effeminate by any means, but he remembered high school Craig owning the widest array of shoes of anyone in their class—girls included—and he’d always had that slight lisp that no amount of speech therapy could cure.  Not that those were sure signs that a person was gay.  Stan didn’t have a lisp and he owned exactly one pair of forty dollar shoes.  Still, now that he thought about it, he should have known.

What did surprise him was seeing Craig sitting cross-legged on his living room floor, Kenny’s head resting in his lap as he stroked the sleeping man’s hair.

“Me and Kenny,” Craig agreed, tucking a lock of blond hair behind Kenny’s ear.

“When did that happen?”

“You want the long or the short version?”

Stan shrugged.  He didn’t really care.  He was only trying to make conversation.

“Did, uh…?  Did he tell you that…?”

“That you two fucked in high school?” Craig supplied.

“I take that as a yes.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Stan wiped his palms on his lap.  “He promised he’d never tell anyone.”

“Ten years ago.  You know, not _everyone_ remembers promises they made with their high school boyfriends ten years after they graduate.”

Stan frowned.  “Shit, he told you about _that_ too?”

Craig shrugged.  “When you’ve been with someone for more or less six years, these things tend to slip out.”

“More or less?”

“Well the first year was a bit rocky.  What with Kenny having that fling with that married man.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah.  You of all people should know, he had sort of a weakness for emotionally unavailable men.  They were always married or in the closet or they’d taken a vow of celibacy…”

“Don’t tell me Kenny fucked a priest.”

“…I plead the fifth.”

Stan grimaced.  “Good Lord.”

“That’s what the priest said.”

“That is not even funny, man.”

“My point is, he only chased after the forbidden ones.”

“Except for you.”

“No, me included.  Narcotics Anonymous advises you not to have sex when you’re first recovering from drug addiction…”

“Drug addiction?”

“We both made a lot of mistakes,” Craig said simply.

“I guess.”

“But it got us to where we are now.”

“And you’re happy now?”

Craig smiled.  “Yeah.  We’re happy.”

Stan felt a twinge of jealousy creeping in, immediately followed by a pang of guilt for being jealous.  Kenny was his friend.  He shouldn’t begrudge his friend a little happiness just because his own life was a joke.

“So what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in California?”

Stan sighed.  “I did.  Michael.  But he dumped me three weeks ago for his surfing instructor.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Craig looked back down at Kenny.  “You should go for it with Kyle,” he said, stroking Kenny’s cheekbone with his thumb.

“Jesus fuck, he really does tell you everything.”

“There aren’t any secrets with us.”

Stan crossed his arms.  “Well, it’s a lost cause anyways.  Kyle’s straight.”

“You don’t know that for a fact.”

“He dated Bebe.”

“God, Stan, you talk as if gay and straight are the only options.  Those two have been broken up for eight years.  You don’t know who Kyle’s been with since then.”

Stan raised his eyebrows.  “Do you know something I don’t?”

Craig laughed.  “Why would I?”

“Because Kenny tells you everything.”

“I plead the fifth.”

Stan shook his head.  “Kenny didn’t sleep with Kyle, did he?”

“God, no.  Sleeping with a man of the cloth is one thing, but _that_ …  It’s unforgivable.”

Stan wasn’t sure whether or not Craig was joking or even whether he wanted him to be.

“So how do you know Kyle wouldn’t laugh in my face if he found out…you know?”

“I don’t.  But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?  I mean, if he rejects you, you can always run back to California and never look back.”


	5. First Number You Dial

**May, 2011**

“What if you used a hyphenated last name?  Wendy Cartman-Testaburger.  Or Testaburger-Cartman, even.  I can compromise.”

“Would you use a hyphenated name too?”

Cartman scowled.  “Sure, Wendy.  And then you can cut off my balls and dangle them from the rear-view mirror of your Prius.”

“So being my equal is emasculating?  Well then, why don’t I just take your last name, forget all about my law degree and spend the rest of my life in the kitchen cooking your dinner and popping out eighteen-pound babies?”

Kyle rolled his eyes.  Here they were at their ten-year reunion, and Cartman and Wendy still couldn’t stop fighting about Wendy’s last name.  When had his life become so predictable?  All he needed was for Kenny to show up and start talking about pregnant lesbians and he could be part of his own bad ABC Family sitcom.

Wendy was raising her voice now, which Kyle took as a cue to leave.  He looked around for someone else to talk to.  He saw Bebe across the gym, twirling her hair boredly as Heidi introduced her to her family.  Craig was laughing with Clyde at some story Token was telling them.  He spotted Stan huddling with a glass of wine in the least conspicuous corner of the crowded gymnasium.  He smiled to himself, making his way across the gym.

“Not mingling?” he asked as he approached his friend.

Stan looked up and glanced around the room.

“I didn’t come back to South Park to see these people.”

“Who did you come here to see?”

“Kenny.”

Kyle’s face fell.  “Oh.”  He scanned the room for Kenny, who he found chatting animatedly with Butters.

“He’s different, don’t you think?” Stan asked.  “Talks a lot.”

Kyle laughed.  “Used to be hard to get two words out of him.”

“He seems happier now.  Like he finally got what he wanted out of life.”

Kyle noted the regret on Stan’s face.  “Did you?” he asked.

“No.”

Kyle sighed.  “You know, I had this insane idea that I was gonna impress the pants off of everyone tonight?  I ran into Annie—barely recognized her with her short hair—and I started bragging about my law degree.  Then I asked her what she’s done since high school, and she says, ‘I beat leukemia.’”

“And how can you top that?”

“The sad thing is that I _wanted_ to top that.  She beat cancer, and all I could think about was what I could say that would be more impressive.”

 “Don’t feel bad.  High school reunions are good for no one’s ego.  Except maybe Heidi’s.  But only because she’s a fucking snob, with her perfect little family.”

Stan took a swig of his wine and Kyle shifted his weight from his right to his left foot, scratching his hip awkwardly. 

“So…this place looks different, right?”

Stan nodded.  “Did you see the old English room is a science lab now?”

“Yeah, it’s trippy dude.  It’s like, familiar, but not quite like I remember it.  Like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.”

Stan’s face lit up.  “I love that show!  God, I didn’t think anyone still appreciated it.”

“Are you kidding me?  It’s great.  Especially the 80s remake version.”  Stan scowled and Kyle’s face broke into a grin.  “Dude, I’m kidding.”

“Ugh.  You better be.”

Kyle smiled, shaking his head lightly.

“How about that old math room?”

“Oh my God, it hasn’t changed a bit.  It still even has ‘Mrs. Bartlett is a MILF’ graffitied to the wall by Cartman’s old desk.”

“No kidding?  You know she’s here tonight?”

“Mrs. Bartlett?  I haven’t seen her.  How is she?”

“Still a MILF.”

Stan grinned.  “She’s, like, fifty.”

“But to be fair, I’m pretty sure her boobs and most of her face are brand-spanking-new.”

Stan laughed.  “I missed this,” he said, shaking his head.  “I forgot how easy you are to talk to.”

“Easier than I am to avoid?”

“I never knew passive aggression looked so good on you, Kyle,” a female voice cut in.

Stan licked his lips nervously, glancing over Kyle shoulder.  Kyle turned around to see Bebe and Wendy walking their way, Bebe’s face contorted into angry scowl.

“What’s up?” Kyle asked, as the women sidled up to Stan.

“That Heidi is a bitch.  She introduced me to her perfect little family, and do you know what she said?  ‘Robert, this is my friend Bebe.  You know, the one who’s having a child out of wedlock.’  Can you fucking believe that?”

“Bebe’s a little hormonal,” Wendy explained good-naturedly.

“Wendy!  Be on my side.”

“I talked to Heidi,” Stan said, taking a sip of his wine, “and I am on your side.”

“Thank you.”

Kyle felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Craig at his side.  “Party in Stan’s lonely corner?” he asked.

“I didn’t invite any of these people to my lonely corner,” Stan replied.  “I was actually hoping to avoid human contact tonight.”

“God, I know what you mean.  This reunion is torture,” Craig commented.  “Will one of you remind me in ten years _not_ to attend our twenty-year reunion?”

“That bad?” Wendy asked.

“I’m surrounded by booze and I can’t touch it,” Craig replied.  “And after talking to Heidi, I _really_ want a drink.”

“Join the club,” Bebe muttered.

“You guys, Heidi is just putting on a show,” Wendy assured them.  “I guarantee you, she is not as put-together as she seems.  Nobody is.  Except maybe Kyle.”

“It’s true,” Kyle replied.

It was far from true.  But Kyle figured he was supposed to lie at his ten-year reunion.

“Wendy, you don’t understand,” Bebe said.  “Nobody wants to go to their ten-year reunion and realize they didn’t live up to expectations.  Look at my life, you guys.  I’m about to have a…”

Her voice trailed off as the others stared at her expectantly.

“A heart attack?” Stan filled in.

“A conniption?” Craig offered.

“An epiphany?” Wendy tried.

Panic flashed in Bebe’s eyes, and she turned to Kyle desperately.  “…My water just broke.”

“A baby,” Kyle breathed.  “You guys, she’s about to have a baby.”

“It’s too soon,” she whispered.  “I can’t… It’s too soon.  I can’t have a baby here.  She’s not due for six weeks… My doctor is in Providence…”

“Bebe, calm down,” Craig said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“ _I can’t do it!_ ”

By this time, most of their former classmates standing nearby were starting to stare.

“Bebe!  You are having this baby _now_.  Wendy, go start your car.”

Wendy nodded, darting toward the door.

Bebe shook her head.  “But, my doctor…”

“My neighbors have a great doctor.  She’s gonna take good care of you.  You’re gonna be fine.”  Craig turned to Kyle.  “Tell Kenny and Cartman that Wendy and I are taking Bebe to the hospital.”

Kyle nodded numbly, watching Craig usher Bebe to the door.

“Holy fuck, dude.”  Stan turned to Kyle, his eyes wide.  “Your high school sweetheart is having a kid.”

* * *

 

**April, 2001**

“Token wears too much cologne,” Cartman stated, strutting into Kyle’s room.

“Most people knock,” Kyle commented, not tearing his eyes off the letter in his hands.

“Also, he dresses like a tool.  I mean, honestly, the fedora?  Who does he think he is, Black Indiana Jones?”

“I take it you heard about prom.”

“You know what else?  He talks funny.  And I’m not being racist here.  Even for a black person, he talks funny.”

“Still racist, Cartman.”

“I think it’s safe to say he does not have one appealing characteristic.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, refolding the letter.  “If you didn’t want Wendy to go to prom with another dude, you should have just asked her.”

“Who said I want to go to prom with Wendy?”

Kyle set down his letter and swiveled around in his desk chair to face Cartman.  “When did this become a regular thing?  You invading my house, barging into my room and relating your problems to me?”

Cartman shrugged, taking a seat on the edge of Kyle’s bed.  “You just seem like the one to go to with this kind of shit.”

“So let me get this straight.  When something is troubling you and you need someone to talk to, I’m the first one that comes to mind.  When you want to call someone, mine is the first number you want to dial?  Is that not how you defined a best friend to me last month?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Kyle.”

“Go to my head?  More like chills me to my bones.  How can I be the first number you dial, Cartman?  We hate each other.”

“Well, I hate everybody.  It was bound to happen.”  Cartman hopped up from Kyle’s bed, strolling over to his desk.  “What’s that you were reading?” he asked, snatching up the letter.

“Nothing!” Kyle replied, grabbing for the letter.

“Sure,” Cartman said, unfolding the letter.  “From Bebe, I bet.”

“Cartman, give it back.  I mean it.”

Cartman laughed as his eyes fell upon the address line.  “Columbia University.  Aw, Kyle.  You kept your rejection letter.  How adorable.”

“Cartman, please give it back.”

“‘We are pleased to inform you that…’” Cartman read aloud.  He frowned.  “What the fuck, Kyle.  This is an acceptance letter.”

“I know that, fatass,” Kyle muttered, snatching the letter back from Cartman.  “That’s why I didn’t want you to read it, asshole.”

Cartman crossed his arms.  “What gives, Kyle?  You told everyone you didn’t get in.”

Kyle’s gaze fell down to his desktop.  “That’s because I’m not going there.”

“I repeat:  What.  The.  Fuck.”

“I don’t want to go to New York, okay?”

“It’s one of the best schools in the country!”

“The University of Colorado is a good school too.”

Cartman threw up his arms.  “It’s in Boulder!  The hippie capital of the world!  You’re telling me you’d rather be in Boulder this September than New York City?”

“Yes.  That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Why?”

“Forget it, Cartman,” Kyle muttered, shoving the letter into his desk drawer.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right.  I don’t understand.  But I’m still waiting for you to explain it.”

“No offense, but just because I’m your first call doesn’t mean you’re mine.  You’re not really the person I want to talk to about this.”

Cartman shook his head, grabbing Kyle’s cell phone from his desk top and sliding it closer to the redhead.  “Call Bebe then,” he replied.  “Maybe she can talk some sense into you.”

And with that, Cartman strode out of Kyle’s room.

Kyle sighed, staring down at his cell phone.  He didn’t want to think about graduation or college or the fact that very soon, everything in his life was going to change.  He wasn’t ready for the life he’d grown comfortable with to turn upside down.  But as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Cartman was right about one thing.  He needed to talk to someone.

He picked up his phone.

* * *

 

“Are you sure your parents will be out all weekend?”

“Relax,” Kenny ordered, pressing Stan into the couch.  “We’re alone.”

“What about your little sister?”

“She ran away again.  She won’t be home for at least two weeks.”

“But what if she comes home early?”

“She won’t.”

“But what if…?”

“Stan?” Kenny cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Hush,” Kenny ordered, dipping down to connect his lips to Stan’s collarbone.

Stan moaned softly at the touch, and made up his mind right then and there to just go with it.  Never mind that they were in the middle of Kenny’s living room, and if anyone were to walk in on them, they’d find them in a rather compromising position—Stan shirtless and lying back on Kenny’s couch and Kenny straddling his hips and placing sloppy kisses all over his neck and chest.

Kenny never seemed to worry about getting caught.  Stan figured it was because Kenny was a risk-taker.  That was how they’d first hooked up.  It was during their junior year, before Kyle and Bebe had gotten together, when they were all still friends.  They had all gathered at Cartman’s house to play video games, and when Stan had gotten up to get a drink, Kenny followed him into the kitchen.  Now, the next part was a bit of a blur to Stan.  He still wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened, but Kenny ended up going down on him right there in Cartman’s kitchen, with Kyle and Cartman playing _Final Fantasy_ twenty feet away.  Stan asked him later how he knew he was gay.  Kenny told him he didn’t, he just liked a challenge.

Kenny was always nonchalant about their relationship.  He was already out to his mom and his older brother.  Stan was out to exactly one person, and that was Kenny.  Which was why he was more than a little nervous about the two of them getting caught together on his couch.

“Is your front door locked?” Stan asked, as Kenny pulled away to tear off his T-shirt.

“It doesn’t lock,” Kenny replied, tossing his shirt aside.

“What kind of front door doesn’t lock?”

“The lock’s busted,” Kenny said with a shrug, scooting down to unbutton Stan’s jeans.

“Anyone could walk in on us”

“Who’s gonna walk into my house, Stan?  Now shut up and help me get your pants off.”

Stan lifted his hips obediently, and Kenny reached for his waistband.  As soon as he’d gotten his hands on Stan’s jeans, however, a vibrating from Stan’s pocket startled them away.

“Fuck, your phone,” he breathed, as Stan dug into his pocket.  “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Probably my mom,” Stan muttered, as his phone continued to vibrate.

“Don’t answer it,” Kenny said, tugging at his jeans.

Stan held up the phone, gazing at the screen.  He stared in shock at the contact name.

“Who is it?” Kenny asked.

“It’s Kyle.”

Kenny bit his lip.  “You should answer it,” he said, standing up.

“You just told me not to answer it.”

“Well now I think you should.”

Stan shook his head, hitting _ignore_ and sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as Kenny picked his shirt up off the floor and tugged it back over his head.

“Getting dressed,” Kenny replied.

“But we were…”

“You should go home,” Kenny cut him off, tossing him his own T-shirt.

“Really?  Why, because Kyle called me?”

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” Kenny stated calmly, turning and walking toward his bedroom.

Stan stared after him, dumbfounded and clutching his dirty T-shirt.

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“Are we not in a hurry?” Cartman urged from the back seat.  “What the fuck are we waiting for?”

“You’re not wearing your seatbelt,” Kenny replied patiently.

Cartman groaned.  “We have to get to the _hospital_ , Kenny.  Kyle’s girlfriend is having a _baby_.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Safety first, Eric,” Kenny sing-songed.

Stan rolled his eyes.  Cartman groaned again, but Stan heard a distinct _click_ from the backseat, and Kenny revved the engine and pulled out of the high school parking lot.

“Have I told you lately how lame you’ve become, Kenny?” Cartman said.  “I mean, seriously, you drive a minivan?”

“It’s a family-friendly car.”

“You don’t have a family.”

Kenny didn’t reply.  Stan glanced over at him nervously.  He was scowling and clutching the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

“Lots of leg room back here,” Kyle offered into the awkward silence.

“Why is there a car seat in the middle row?” Cartman asked.

“Because my favorite fag-hag is seven months pregnant with my godson.”

“Probably the closest you’ll ever have to a real son, right?”

“Cartman, will you shut up?” Stan interjected.

“Stan, is that you?  God, forgot you were here.  That must be the most I’ve heard from you since you got here.”

“Hey, guys, this is just like old times,” Kyle chirped.  “The four of us hanging out together.  Cartman pissing everyone off.”

“Only now we’re twenty-eight and Kenny’s in a homosexual relationship and playing house with a lesbian.”

“You’re an asshole,” Kenny shot back.

“At least we know some things never change, right?” Kyle offered.

Stan glanced at the speedometer.  Kenny drove dangerously fast when he was angry, he quickly learned.  He was glaring ahead at the road, passing every car he approached.

“I think the speed limit is fifty here,” Stan told him.

“Thanks for the driving tips, Mrs. Bucket,” Kenny snapped, but he did let up slightly on the accelerator.

“Who’s Mrs. Bucket?” Kyle called from the back.

Stan offered Kenny a smile.  “Don’t let him get to you, dude.  You know Cartman’s always been a jackass.”

“He’s right though, isn’t he?  I can’t have kids.  I’ll never have a family.  And I’m driving to the hospital now to see a friend who got knocked up without trying have a kid she never wanted.”

“To be fair, she never said she didn’t want a child,” Kyle replied.

“Whatever,” Kenny muttered.

“Hey, you’ll have kids someday,” Stan assured him, though he didn’t actually know that to be true.  “I never believed you when you said you were gonna be a teacher and get married, but you did those things.”

Kenny’s face softened.  “I guess.”

“And Craig’s gonna be a great dad,” Kyle pitched in.  “You should have seen him take charge when Bebe’s water broke.”

Kenny smiled.  “Will you describe it to me in great detail?”

Kyle laughed.  “Why?”

Kenny’s face broke into a grin.  “Because he’s so fucking hot.”

“I don’t get it,” Cartman muttered.  “I just do not understand.”

“No, you don’t,” Kenny replied, still smiling.  “So did any of you have the pleasure of talking to Heidi tonight?  My god, what a stuck up bitch.  ‘That’s probably why you’re a teacher, right?  Because you can never have children of your own?’”

“She said that?”

“I still can’t believe they let your type near children,” Cartman commented.

“You can’t be serious,” Stan replied.

“Not because he’s gay,” Cartman said.  “Because he grew up poor.  Ghetto rubs off, you know, and children are highly susceptible.”

“Shit,” Kenny said suddenly, slowing down the minivan.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asked.

“Do you guys here that?” Kenny asked, pulling over to the side of the road.  “I think something’s wrong with my back tire.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Stan said.

“I should make sure nothing’s wrong,” Kenny said.  “There’s gonna be a baby on board soon.  Have to make sure it’s safe.  Cartman, can you check to see if it’s flat?”

“Why me?”

“You’re the closest.  Just do it.”

“Fine,” Cartman said with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the minivan.

He slid the door shut behind him and trudged over to the back tire.

Without warning, Kenny hit the accelerator, pulling back onto the road and leaving Cartman in the dust.

“Hey!” Stan heard him shouting from a distance.  “Kenny, you poor piece of shit!”

“Are you just gonna leave him there?” Kyle asked in disbelief.

“He’ll find a ride,” Kenny assured them.  “So, did either of you talk to Butters tonight?  He’s a trip, isn’t he?”


	6. Stand the Test of Time

**May, 2011**

“Kenny…” Cartman huffed, collapsing into the chair beside Kyle’s. “…you are…an asshole.”

“Dude,” Kenny said, chuckling.  “What took you so long?  Did you walk?”

“Yeah, I walked.  How did you think I was gonna make it here?”

“Did you not think to call a cab?”

Cartman frowned.  “Dammit.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Stan told him.  “You haven’t missed much here.  No one can get a hold of Bebe’s mom, and she won’t let anyone else in there with her besides Wendy and Craig.”

“Craig?”

“He calms her,” Kenny explained.

“Not by slipping oxycodone in her Kool-Aid, I hope.”

“You’re a jackass, Cartman.  I’m glad I made you walk here.”

“Seriously, Cartman,” Kyle muttered.  “Not cool.”

“What?  It’s not my fault his husband’s a drug addict.”

“Hearing you guys bicker never gets old,” Stan commented.  “Seriously, I don’t know how I lived without it for ten years.”

“Eleven years,” Kyle corrected.

“Right,” Stan muttered, turning back to his magazine.  “My mistake.”

“You guys?”

The four of them looked up to see Wendy standing in the doorway, her high heels in her hand and her hair tumbling out of the fancy bun she’d put it in for the reunion.  She looked exhausted.

Kyle sat up straight.  “What’s up?”

“Mrs. Stevens still isn’t here?”

“I couldn’t get a hold of her.  How’s Bebe?”

“How’s the baby?” Kenny added.

“Her name is Iris.  After the doctor who delivered her,” Wendy replied, forcing a smile.  “Four pounds, ten ounces.  They’re gonna keep her in the hospital for a while.  They think she’ll be alright though.”

“And Bebe?” Kyle asked again.

“She’s healthy.  A little emotional right now.  Craig’s with her.”

“Can I see her?” Kyle asked, standing up and striding to the door.

Wendy nodded, walking numbly to Cartman’s side and taking Kyle’s unoccupied seat.  She sighed, resting her head on Cartman’s shoulder.

“Why are you so sweaty?” Kyle heard her mutter, as he made his way to Bebe’s room.

He bound down the hallway, doing an about face when he realized he’d passed her door.  When he’d made it back to her doorway, he stopped and stared into the room.  She was in bed, no baby in sight, her face stained with tears, but expressionless.  Craig was at her side, holding her hand and stroking her hair gently.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Craig looked up.  “Hi, Kyle.”

“Where’s…?”

“They’re cleaning her up,” Craig explained.

Kyle stepped inside, making his way to Bebe’s bedside.  “You doing okay?” he asked.

She dropped Craig’s hand and reached for Kyle’s.

“I’m gonna find Kenny,” Craig mumbled, stepping away from the bed.

“How are you?” Kyle asked, as Craig left the room.

“Not so good,” Bebe replied, her voice barely above a whisper.  “My baby…Iris… They say she’s too small.  They’re keeping her in the hospital for a few weeks.”

“I know.”  Kyle stroked her hand gently.  “Want to talk about it?”

Bebe stared silently into the air for a moment before turning to meet Kyle’s eyes.  “Kyle, why did we break up?”

Kyle wrinkled his forehead.  “What brought this on?”

“Please answer the question.”

“Okay…well… We had a high school romance.  And however much we didn’t want to believe it at the time, it was only meant to be a high school romance.”

Kyle licked his lips thoughtfully.  He hadn’t realized how true those words were until he said them out loud.  He cared about Bebe.  It killed him to see her in pain.  But however much he cared about her, he knew she wasn’t what he wanted, and he certainly wasn’t who she wanted.  Those lingering romantic feelings he had for her belonged to that part of him that was stuck in high school.

“Was it the distance?” Bebe asked.

Kyle shook his head.  “You know, I read somewhere that long-distance relationships can be just as successful as any.  If we’d really wanted things to work out, we would have made it work.”

“So it just wasn’t meant to be?”

“You broke up with me, remember?”

Bebe sniffled.  “Is it me?  Do I push people away?”

Kyle squeezed her hand.  “What’s this really about?”

Bebe’s face, already flushed, sweating and stained with tears, scrunched into a pained expression.  “Kyle, she’s so tiny,” she choked out.

“Oh, Bebe…”

“She needs so much from me.  And how can I give it to her all by myself?  How can I give Iris the life I want for her if I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life?  I’m afraid, Kyle…”

“Bebe,” Kyle cut her off, reaching up and pushing away a lock of hair that was dark with sweat and matted to her forehead.  “Bebe, you will never be alone.  No matter how far away you are, no matter what kind of jerks push you out of their lives, you will never be alone.”

* * *

 

**May, 2001**

_“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair…”_

“I _hate_ this song,” Token groaned, tugging at his bowtie.

“I love this song,” Wendy replied, sipping her punch.

“ _She acts like summer and walks like rain.  Reminds me that there’s time to change…”_

“She doesn’t look like she’s having fun, does she?” Bebe observed in a hushed tone.

Kyle shrugged.  It was prom, after all.  Wasn’t it designed to make high schoolers miserable?

“Considering she wanted to be here with someone else, I’d say that’s a pretty accurate assessment.”

“But still, Token asked her, and he waited, like, a month for her to accept.  You’d think after waiting so long for her to say yes, he’d actually ask her to dance once or twice.”

“Give the guy a break.  He’s probably just nervous.”

“But can’t he tell that she’s bored out of her mind?”

“Someone can,” Kyle replied, nodding toward another figure making his way toward the pair.

“ _Did you sail across the sun?  Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded?”_

“Hey, guys,” Cartman greeted them, straightening his tuxedo jacket.

“Hey, Cartman,” Token replied with a nod.  “This dance blows, right?”

Wendy scowled.

“That it does,” Cartman agreed, good-naturedly.  He turned to Wendy.  “Want to dance?”

Wendy’s eyes widened.  She gave Token one brief glance before accepting Cartman’s hand and letting him lead her onto the floor.

“ _And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?”_

“And the crowd goes wild,” Kyle muttered.

Bebe turned to her boyfriend expectantly.  “Well, are we gonna stand here watching Wendy all night, or are _you_ gonna ask _me_ to dance?”

“What, the girl can’t ask the guy?  What about feminism and all that?”

“Fine,” Bebe replied, holding out her hand.  “Kyle, may I have this dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“ _Now that she’s back from that soul vacation, tracing her way through the constellation_ …”

“I’m with Wendy on this one,” Kyle said, following his girlfriend to the dance floor.  “I think _Drops of Jupiter_ will stand the test of time.”

“Mm,” Bebe replied, slipping her arms around his neck.

He placed his hands on her waist, tugging her closer, so her head rested on his shoulder as they swayed to the music.

“ _She checks out Mozart while she does Tae Bo, reminds me that there’s room to grow…”_

“What about you and me?” she asked.  “Do you think we’ll stand the test of time?”

“You know, I was worried,” Kyle admitted.  “When you told me you were going to RISD, I was bracing myself for the inevitable breakup.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m sort of thinking we stand a chance.”

Bebe pulled back to look Kyle in the eyes.  “You think so?”

“I do.  I mean, if any couple can survive the real world—I mean, outside the sturdy walls of South Park High—it’s you and me.  We have what it takes.”

Bebe smiled, returning her head to his shoulder.  “Yeah.  We do.”

“ _Did the wind sweep you off your feet?  Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?”_

“You think Wendy and Cartman will ever admit they like each other?” Bebe asked with a laugh.

“God, no.  They’re both too damn proud.  I’m gonna be stuck wading through their pool of sexual tension all the way through law school.”

“I’d be willing to make a wager on that.”

“Oh yeah?  You think I’m wrong.”

“It has been known to happen on occasion.”

Kyle laughed.  “So what do you think will happen to them?”

“I bet they’ll be together before graduation.”

“And what are the terms of this wager?”

“Hm…” Bebe hummed, weaving her fingers into the curls on the back of Kyle’s neck.  “Better make this one good…”

“Yeah?”

“Okay, got it.  If you win, and they’re not together before graduation, I will wear absolutely nothing under my graduation gown.”

Kyle grinned.  “I like it.  And if you win?”

 “ _Can you imagine no love, pride, deep fried chicken, your best friend always stickin’ up for you…?”_

“If I win, you have to consider Columbia.”

He frowned.  “Did Cartman tell you?”

“He was just being a friend.”

“ _…five hour phone conversation, the best soy latte that you ever had, and me?”_

“He’s not my friend.  And I don’t want to go to New York.”

“Kyle, Cartman’s your friend.”

“He is not.”

 “Okay, he’s not.  But…just think about Columbia, okay?”

Kyle sighed.  “Okay.  I’ll think about it.  _If_ you win the bet.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“But until then, let’s just not talk about it, okay?”

“Deal.”

* * *

 

“ _You’re beautiful, that’s for sure_ …”

“I hate dances,” Craig moaned.

“I don’t know,” Clyde replied.  “They’re kind of fun.”

Kenny rolled his eyes.  He wasn’t a huge fan of dances himself, considering he could never dance with who he really wanted to dance with.  But he usually enjoyed himself a little, standing against the wall with his friends, watching girls grinding up on each other to get the guys’ attention.  But the prom wasn’t going exactly as he’d hoped.  He wasn’t speaking to Stan, and since all of his other friends were paired off for the over-hyped occasion, Kenny had to resort to standing around with Craig and Clyde.

Clyde was an okay guy, he supposed.  But Craig was stubbornly determined to hate everything, and his negative attitude was bringing down Kenny’s already foul mood.

“They’re awful,” Craig complained.  “The poofy dresses, the couples…”

“ _Though my love is rare…  Though my love is true…”_

“…the music…”

“ _I’m like a bird, I only fly away…”_

“Maybe you’d have more fun if you actually got out there and danced,” Clyde suggested.

“Yeah right.  With who?”

Clyde shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I’m sure there are other people here who are, you know…like you.”

“Shut up,” Craig hissed.

Kenny arched an eyebrow.  “Like him how?  Cynical and argumentative?”

“Something like that.”

“Why are you even here?” Kenny asked.  “If you hate dances so much, why come to prom?”

Craig shrugged.  “I look good in a tux.”

Kenny couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t reply.

“ _Your faith in me brings me to tears…”_

Kenny suddenly felt himself being jerked away from Craig and Clyde.  He’d stumbled a few feet already before he worked out that the hand attached to his wrist belonged to Stan.

“Stan, what the fuck?” he cried, as Stan pulled him to a fairly secluded corner.

“Can we talk?” Stan asked.

“About what?” Kenny asked, pulling his hand away.

“You know, about…last weekend.”

Kenny sighed.  “Can we talk over a dance?”

“No.”

“I knew that was a long shot.”

“Kenny, what happened?”

“What happened when?”

“You haven’t said a word to me since you…you know…dumped me and kicked me out of your house last weekend.  Can’t you at least tell me what that was all about?”

Kenny shrugged.  “If I understood it myself, I would.”

“Did I do something?”

“ _No_.  Or…yes.  I don’t know.”

Kenny glanced over Stan’s shoulder at the dance floor, where Kyle was giving Bebe a twirl.

“ _I don’t know where my soul is… I don’t know where my home is…”_

“It was just…when you ignored that phone call from Kyle, I realized…  Well, actually, I knew it all along…”

“Knew what?”

“That you were only with me to take your mind off Kyle.”

Stan shook his head.  “I’m not…”

“It’s not your fault, Stan.  I knew coming into this that you and I didn’t have feelings for each other, or whatever.  Because I always knew you were in love with Kyle.  But last weekend, for the first time, it actually bothered me.  And I realized that maybe I do have feelings for you.  So we had to break up.”

“Kenny, I’m _not_ in love with Kyle.”

Kenny silently nodded toward the dance floor.  Stan turned around, scanning the room until he spotted Kyle and Bebe, laughing and holding one another around the waists, their foreheads pressed together.

“ _It’s not that I wanna say goodbye… It’s just that every time you try…”_

Stan let out a long breath as he turned back to Kenny.  He nodded sadly.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.  And without another word, he made a beeline for the door.

“ _Each and every single day, I know I’m going to have to eventually give you away…”_

“Hey, what was that all about?”

Kenny looked up to see Craig standing at his side, a concerned look on his face.

Kenny shook his head.  “Nothing.”

“You look upset,” Craig replied.  “You wanna talk about it?”

Kenny laughed.  “No offense, Craig, but you wouldn’t really understand.”

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“Bebe’s mom is finally here,” Kenny announced, squeezing onto the waiting room sofa between Craig and Stan.  “And Cartman took Wendy home.  She was getting all weepy and gross.”

“Sensitive,” Stan remarked.

“What?  Women are gross when they cry.  I can’t help that.”

“You think _that’s_ gross?” Craig muttered.  “You don’t know what gross is.  Did you know there’s something called _afterbirth_?  And it is exactly what it sounds like.”

Stan winced.  “Ew.”

The three of them were alone in the waiting room.  It was nearly midnight, and Kyle was still with Bebe.  Craig had taken Kenny to see the baby, but their visit was brief.  Stan assumed that seeing the newborn was too much for Kenny.  He opted not to see her himself.  Babies creeped Stan out.

He turned to face Kenny.  “Is she really tiny?”

“So tiny.”

“Did her skin fit her face weird?”

Kenny cringed.  “Stan!”

“What?  I’m curious.”

Kenny sighed.  “Poor Bebe looked so…depressed.”  He turned to his husband.  “She’s lucky she had you with her tonight.”

Craig forced a smile.  “I guess that birthing class you forced me to go to with Donna paid off.”

“I think it had more to do with your level-headedness and your admirably strong stomach.”

“Many have told me that they admire my strong stomach.”

“Mm,” Kenny murmured, burying his head in Craig’s shoulder.  “Tell me again how you took control when Bebe’s water broke at the reunion.”

Craig sent Kenny a sideways glance.  “You get turned on by the weirdest things.”  He gazed around the empty waiting room.  “In the most inappropriate places.”

“I can’t help the things you do to me, Craig.”

Stan rolled his eyes.  “Kenny, gross.  I’m still in the room.”

“On that note…” Craig stood up.  “I have to pee.”  He paused on his way to the door.  “And don’t follow me to the men’s room, Kenny.  We’re in a hospital, you sicko.”

“What happened to your sense of adventure?”

“I never had one,” Craig replied, walking out the door.  “And try not to have sex with Stan while I’m gone!”

“Yeah, well try not to pop pills in the bathroom!” Kenny shouted after him.

“What do you think?” Stan asked, grinning at Kenny.  “Should we do it while he’s gone just to spite him?”

Kenny laughed.  “Can’t.  Made a commitment vow and all that.”

“Shame,” Stan replied, sitting back on the sofa.  “It’s been, like, a month for me.  Probably longer for you though, I guess.  How long have you been married again?”

“Oh, no.  That whole thing about marriage killing sex lives only applies to hetero couples.  We fags bump uglies like there’s no tomorrow.  We pop Viagra from Pez dispensers.”

“What about lesbians?”

“Lesbians never have sex ever.  They play softball and burn bras.”

“God, your endless knowledge of lesbian lifestyles never fails to astound me.”

“Yes, I like to think I’m an expert on all things lesbian.”

Stan laughed, shaking his head lightly.

“I’m glad you came back, man,” Kenny told him with a lopsided smile.

Stan smiled back.  “Yeah, me too.”

“And you know what else?  I’m relieved that you and Kyle are talking again.  It’s like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders after carrying it for ten years.”

“Eleven years,” Stan corrected.  “And I’m relieved too.  Although I could do without all his passive-aggressive remarks.”

“What do you mean?”

As if on cue, Kyle wandered into the waiting room, taking Craig’s unoccupied seat.

“Speak of the devil,” Kenny said, clapping Kyle on the shoulder.

“You guys are still here?” Kyle asked.

“I’m your ride,” Kenny replied.  “Cartman and Wendy left without you.”

“Oh.  Cool.  Where’s Craig?”

“Bathroom,” Stan answered.  “You okay?  You look beat.”

Kyle shrugged.  “I’m a little worn out, I guess.  Hey, do you wanna stay at my apartment tonight?”

“Ooh, a sleepover?” Stan deadpanned.  “Gosh, that sounds fun.  Can we do each other’s toenails?”

“I could use the company.”

Stan hesitated.  “Uh, sure.  I guess.  I’m here for you, dude.”

“Better late than never, right?”

Kenny raised his eyebrows.  “Oh.  That’s what you meant.”


	7. Maybe You'll End Up With a Scar

**May, 2011**

“Cartman and Wendy asleep?”

Kyle looked up to see Stan standing over him.  “It is two o’clock.”

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

Kyle looked tired.  Not the typical two-in-the-morning kind of tired.  He looked physically and emotionally worn-out.  The way Stan felt.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Kyle patted the seat beside him.  “Sit.”

“What’s on your mind?” Stan asked, accepting the offer.

Kyle offered a weak smile.  “My high school girlfriend just had a baby.”

“Yep.  That’s something.”

“Nothing like a high school reunion to make a guy realize that other people’s problems are so much more…real than his.”  Kyle shook his head.  “Stan, everyone’s leaving me behind.”

Stan raised an eyebrow.  “Everyone’s here, Kyle.”

“No, I mean… It’s like, everyone is growing up.  Starting their real lives.  Bebe is a mother now.  Cartman and Wendy are getting married.  Kenny and Craig are trying to have kids.  And here I am, afraid to move forward.”

“ _You_?” Stan replied, incredulously.

“Yeah, me.  It’s been ten years since we graduated, and what am I doing?  I’m working for my dad, living with _Cartman_ in South Park.”

“It’s not as if you haven’t done anything with your life.  I mean, you went to law school…”

“I got into Columbia,” Kyle blurted.

Stan squinted.  “What?”

“I got into Columbia.  I could have gone to an Ivy League school, Stan, and I went to the freaking University of Colorado because I was afraid of change.  I didn’t want to leave Colorado and all of the people I knew, because I was too comfortable with my life.”

“You got into Columbia University?  But senior year, Clyde told me they rejected you.”

“I told everyone they rejected me,” Kyle replied.  “So that I wouldn’t have to go.”

Stan put on a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on top of Kyle’s.  “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Oh, good.  It’s fine that I threw away the biggest opportunity of my life, as long as I have your approval.”

“So you didn’t go to an Ivy League school.  Kyle, it could be so much worse.”

“Oh really?”

Stan sighed.  “Kyle, I took off to California after graduation.  Not because I got into a school there.  I didn’t even apply.  I was running away from South Park.  My entire first summer in California, I stood on a street corner wearing a sandwich board advertising five-dollar pizzas.  And the only reason I came back to South Park was because I was running away again.  Because I just got dumped.”

Kyle rolled his eyes.  “Okay, you win.  Your life turned out shittier than mine.”

“I wasn’t trying to one-up you.  I’m just saying…you’re not the only one being left behind while everyone else builds their lives.  You’re not alone.”

“I was alone ten years ago,” Kyle snapped.  “When I was freaking out over everything changing too fast for me.  When all I really needed was to talk to my best friend.”

Stan frowned.  “Is this why you invited me here?  To blame me for your problems?  God, when are you gonna stop using that against me?  It was ten years ago.  You said you forgave me.”

“Well maybe I haven’t forgiven you as much as I thought.  It may have taken all of two seconds for you to drop me as a friend and forget all about me, but I’m just not as forgetful as you are, Stan.”

“Fine.  Maybe I deserve that.”

Kyle had to be right about everything.  It was one of his more unbearable qualities.  He had this way of talking that just made people believe he was always right.  So when Kyle reminded him of how much he’d fucked up, Stan was forced to quietly agree.  Not that it took much convincing.  He’d been an asshole in high school.  He fucking knew that without Kyle reminding him every chance he got.  But hell, he was a closet case back then, not only coming to terms with his sexuality, but trying to control the feelings he was having for his straight best friend.  He thought that warranted him at least some excuse.

He stood up, suddenly angry.  “You know what?  No.  I’m done letting you make me feel guilty for that.  It was ten fucking years ago.  And, has it occurred to you that maybe I had my own shit going on?  Shit I couldn’t talk to you about?  Shit that was a little bigger than not knowing what college to go to?”

Kyle crossed his arms.  “When could you not talk to me about your shit, Stan?  Unlike you, I was always prepared to listen.”

“I don’t know if you know this about yourself, Kyle, but you’ve always been a little bit judgmental.”

“This is why we stopped being friends?  Because I was too judgmental to listen to your shit?”

“We would have stopped being friends anyway.  If you’d known.”

“How do you know if you won’t talk to me about it?”

Kyle reached for Stan’s hand and pulled him back down to the couch.  Stan landed with a _thud_ beside him, crossing his arms stubbornly as he hit the cushion. 

“Tell me what was going on,” Kyle urged.

Stan sighed.  “It was just…the same as you.  I really wanted something, but I didn’t have the guts to go after it.”

“A college?”

“Not exactly.”

“What, a girl?”

Stan snorted.  “Definitely not a girl.”

Kyle sat, pensive.  “You know,” he said after a while, “I don’t remember you ever having a girlfriend in high school.  How come you never dated?”

Stan bit his lip.  “I dated.  We just…kept it on the down low.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows.  “No way.  You had a girlfriend in high school?”

Despite the solemnity of their conversation, Stan laughed.

“Well?” Kyle pressed.  “Who was she?”

The other man looked down at his lap, wiping his palms on his jeans.  “Kenny,” he said at last.

Kyle’s jaw dropped.  Stan could tell that the revelation he’d been preparing himself for had not been along these lines.

“Kenny?”

“Kenny.”

“That’s the big secret?  You’re gay?”

Stan sighed.  “Yeah.”

“And that’s why you pushed me away?”

“Yeah.”

“Stan, that’s stupid.”

Stan’s head snapped back in Kyle’s direction.  “Pardon me?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.  You pushed me away because you’re gay?  You thought rotten, judgmental Kyle was gonna shun you or something?”

“Or something,” Stan muttered pathetically.

“Stan, come on.  We were closer than that.  You know I would have been your friend no matter what.”

Stan stared at his hands.

* * *

 

**May, 2001**

“Cold, Bebe?” Cartman teased, glancing down at Bebe’s breasts as the foursome stepped into the doors of South Park High for what would hopefully be the last time.

“Stop staring at my girlfriend’s nipples,” Kyle said, socking Cartman on the arm.

“But they’re coming out to say hello.”

“Oh, God, you are nipping out, Bebe,” Wendy said.  “Why are you so cold?”

“Because you and Cartman can’t just get a move on,” Bebe snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her shoulders for warmth.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Wendy asked, wrinkling her forehead in confusion.  “Never mind, we’d better find our places in line.”

“I want to talk to Kyle real quick,” Bebe replied.  “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Wendy nodded and took off toward the back of the line, between Butters Stotch and Craig Tucker.  Cartman shoved his way to the front of the line, between Token Black and Clyde Donovan.

Kyle waggled his eyes and Bebe.  “So you really did it?  Nothing on underneath that gown?”

“That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

“Can I have a sneak peek?”

Bebe sighed and glanced around to see if anyone was watching.  Satisfied that no one was, she tugged at her collar, allowing Kyle only the briefest of glimpses.

“That will do for now,” Kyle said.

Bebe re-crossed her arms over her chest.  “So I guess Columbia is totally off the table now?”

“I won the bet, didn’t I?”

Bebe rolled her eyes.  “You know, you’re lucky Cartman only told me about that letter, and not your mom.”

“You give Cartman too much credit.  He’s not that smart.”

“He’s one of the top students in our class.  He’s ranked higher than me.”

“We’ve been over this, Bebe,” Kyle said, pinching her cheek playfully.  “You don’t need brains when you’re as pretty as you are.”

“I know, I know.  I’m a dish,” Bebe said, smacking Kyle’s hand away.  “We should get in line.  We’ll be walking in soon.”

“Kay,” Kyle agreed, dipping down for a quick kiss before Bebe took off to take her place ahead of Butters.

Kyle passed Stan and Kenny on his way to the front of the line.  They were standing together, as always, but Kyle reminded himself that he could hardly blame Stan for his last name or the order of the alphabet.

He joined Cartman at the front of the line, squeezing in behind Token.

“Ready to give your valedictorian address?” Cartman asked, bitterness lining his voice.

“Mad that I’m smarter than you?” Kyle asked.

“You got better grades than me,” Cartman corrected.  “ _Smarter_ is a more objective word.  _I_ didn’t turn my nose up at an Ivy league school.”

“Well _I_ can tell when a girl way out of my league is into me.”

Cartman frowned.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re smart.  Figure it out.”

Cartman puzzled over this for a minute before dropping the subject and moving onto a new one.

“So, this year didn’t really go the way anyone expected, did it?”

Kyle nodded.  “I always figured it would always be you, me, Stan and Kenny.  The fantastic foursome.  I never imagined I’d end up closer to you than to Stan or Kenny.”

Cartman snorted.  “Whatever.  I only hang out with you because your girlfriend is best friends with Wendy, and Wendy is damn fine.  Before she opens her mouth.”

Kyle rolled his eyes.  “We’re friends and you know it.  You said so yourself; I’m the first one you go to with your problems.”

“Yeah, well don’t tell anyone.”

Kyle snickered.  “Hey, when you’re the best man at Bebe’s and my wedding, promise you’ll cite this year as a turning point in all of our lives.”

Cartman scoffed.  “Right.  You’re wedding.  She’s gonna dump you before we finish college, dude.”

“Hey, she and I are gonna stand the test of time.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m willing to bet on it.  If she breaks up with me before we graduate from CU, I will wear absolutely nothing under my graduation gown.”

Cartman grinned.  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

* * *

 

Kyle looked confident and collected as he made his way to the podium, but his trembling hands were not lost on Stan.  Kyle had always been good at making speeches, but Stan could tell he was nervous about this one.

He cleared his throat, and politely greeted the audience as he placed his typed and matted commencement speech on the podium.

“I have a scar on my elbow from when I was five years old,” his speech began.  “That’s when my dad taught me how to ride a bicycle.”

Stan swallowed the lump in his throat, turning to look at Kenny.  He was staring straight ahead, listening intently to Kyle’s speech.

“Hey,” Stan whispered.

Kenny tore his eyes away from Kyle to look at Stan.

“On my fifth birthday, my dad took off my training wheels.  He said it was time I learned to ride without them.”

“I’m sorry,” Stan whispered.  “For the way things turned out.”

Kenny shook his head.  “It never would have worked, Stan.  We want different things.  I eventually want to get married and have a family.  You want Kyle.”

Stan shrugged.  “So do you think…we could ever try again?”

Kenny licked his lips, looking back at Kyle thoughtfully.

“At first I was scared, but my dad told me that everything would be fine.  He said he’d hang onto my handlebars as long as I needed him.  He promised he wouldn’t let go until I told him it was okay.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Kenny said at last, turning back to Stan.

“My dad lied to me.”

“If you’re single in ten years, you come back to South Park for our ten-year reunion.  And if I haven’t found the lucky man who gets to spend the rest of his life with me, you and I can give it another shot.”

 “You want to make me your fall-back?”

“We’d be _each other’s_ fall-backs.”

Stan smiled, sticking out his hand.  “Shake on it?”

Kyle let out a breathy laugh.  “When I felt my dad’s hands leave the handle bars, I panicked.  I picked my feet up off the pedals, I wobbled a little bit, and then I ran straight into a Jeep parked on the side of the road.”

Kenny took Stan’s hand and shook it firmly.  “This is a binding agreement, Stan.  So I’d better see you at our ten-year reunion.”

“If I’m single.  I always honor my agreements, Kenny.”

“We’ll see.”

Stan shook his head lightly, turning back to hear the rest of Kyle’s speech.

“This story, in case you couldn’t tell,” Kyle said, “is an analogy.  We’re all about to head out into the world, and from this day forward, no one is going to be holding our handle bars.  And, there’s a good chance you’re gonna fall down, or maybe crash into an orange Jeep and wind up needing four stitches on your elbow.”

“How come you couldn’t stay friends with Kyle?” Kenny whispered.

Stan swallowed, staring straight ahead.  “Because just being his friend wasn’t enough.”

“You were never just his friend.  You were his best friend.  Maybe it wasn’t what you wanted, but it was better than nothing at all.”

Kyle looked directly at Stan.  “Maybe you’ll end up with a scar or two.”

Stan shivered.

“You should tell him the truth,” Kenny advised.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?  It will ruin your friendship?  A little late for that, isn’t it?”

“But if you aren’t willing to take the risk,” Kyle went on, “you’ll never get anywhere.  You’ll just stay in one place, sitting halfway off the seat with your feet planted on the sidewalk.”

Kenny nudged Stan’s side.  “What do you have to lose?”

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“Stan, come on.  We were closer than that.  You know I would have been your friend no matter what.”

Stan stared at his hands.  “I know.  That was the problem.”

Kyle cocked his head to the side.  “What are you talking about?”

Stan swallowed.  “Kyle, I have another confession.  But you have to promise not to freak out, okay?”

“Of course.  I promise.”

“The reason I stopped talking to you senior year was that I was…”

Kyle scooted closer to Stan, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Stan, you can tell me anything.”

Stan looked up at him.

After all of the confessing they’d done already, Stan thought, _I was in love with you_ , should be a little easier to say.  But even now, as Kyle looked him in the eye, prepared for the worst, Stan could not bring himself to say the words.

So he kissed him.

And not a shy peck on the lips either.  It was a kiss that held every word, every emotion, every secret he’d ever hidden from Kyle.  He gave all of that up to him in that kiss, and Kyle could do with them what he wished.  He could throw them back at him, push him away, laugh in his face.  He could tell Stan to leave, to go back to California and stay there this time.  He could shake his head with pity and tell him that, sorry, he just didn’t like him _that way_.  But at last, Stan was going to let Kyle make that decision.

Kyle kissed him back.


	8. Change of Plans

**May, 2011**

“What did you do in L.A?” Kyle asked.

He was lying back on his couch, Stan draped lazily over him placing soft kisses at the base of his neck.  Stan took a break from this task, lifting his head and propping himself up on Kyle’s shoulders.

“Bussed tables.  Took some odd jobs.  Made enough to pay rent.  And then with whatever spare time and money I had, I took surfing lessons.”

“Surfing lessons?”

“You know how they say money can’t buy happiness?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well the people who say that are just spending their money on the wrong things.  They’re buying tangible items they can hold onto.  Fancy clothes, iPods.  But that stuff doesn’t last.”

“And what does?”

“Surfing lessons.”

“You’re saying learning to surf is the key to happiness?”

“Well it’s not about the surfing.  It’s about the memories.  The experiences.  That was how I met Michael.”

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

Kyle sat up suddenly, gently pushing Stan off of him.  “Are you on the rebound?” he asked.

Stan considered this.  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  “I guess I could be.”

“How come you and Michael broke up?”

“Well technically it was because he cheated on me.  But I think we were over before that.  When I got that wedding invitation.”

“The one that got ‘lost in the mail’?”

Stan nodded slowly.  “I don’t even know how Wendy got my address.  She must have talked to my mom.  The point is, when I saw that RSVP line and thought about coming back to South Park, I guess I closed up again.  Got all distant like I was in high school.”

“Were you in love with him?”

“No,” Stan answered simply.  He pushed Kyle back down to his former position and went back to work on his neck.

Kyle hummed softly, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Stan?” Kyle whispered.  “I want to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Stan asked in between kisses.

“It’s about something that happened when I was still going to school.  I’ve never told anyone but Kenny.”

Stan pulled away just far enough to look Kyle in the eyes.  “Kyle, did you kill someone.”

Kyle bit his lip.  “This is… Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise, Kyle.  What is it?”

“Well, I had this really good friend at CU, and, um… Well, we hooked up.”

“While you were still dating Bebe?”

Kyle shook his head.  “It was a few years after we broke up.  When I was in law school.”

Stan shrugged.  “What’s wrong with that?”

“This friend was a guy.”

Stan sat up, eyes wide.  “Kyle Broflovski, you little devil!”

“You’re not the only one who’s allowed to have secrets.”

“Did you two, like, keep seeing each other in secret then?”

“It was a one-time thing,” Kyle replied.  “I mean, there was kind of this huge build-up to it, but we didn’t really talk again afterwards.”

Stan frowned.  “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

Stan shook his head.  “Nothing.”

It was a lie.  In truth, Stan was picturing Kyle, five or ten years later, talking intimately with some new guy on his couch and saying, “Oh, Stan Marsh?  He was a one-time thing.  We didn’t talk after that.”  But those thoughts were cleared from his head when he felt Kyle’s hands loosening the tie from his neck and lifting it over his head.

“Hey,” Kyle whispered, unfastening the top three buttons on Stan’s shirt and placing a quick kiss on his lips.  “Let’s go to my room.”

Stan nodded as Kyle led him away by his collar.

* * *

 

**May, 2001**

“Kyle,” Kenny greeted, slapping their valedictorian on the back.  “We made it.  Can you believe it?”

In the past six hours, Kyle had heard exactly fourteen variations of that exact greeting.  He’d said it himself a few times as well, feigning surprise just as Kenny had.  It just seemed like the thing to say to your peers at a high school graduation party.

Kyle smiled, glancing around the crowded room.  “Stan’s not with you?”

“I don’t think he’s coming tonight,” Kenny replied.  “Where’s…everyone else?”

Kyle shrugged.  “They’re around here somewhere.”

Kenny nodded, shoving a hand into his pocket awkwardly and taking a sip of his beer.

“So what are you planning to do, now that high school is over?” Kyle asked.

He’d asked this question exactly nine times that day.

“I’m going to Wayne State in the fall,” Kenny answered.

“Where is that?”

“Nebraska.”

“Why the hell would you want to go there?”

“Short answer: Because I can go there practically for free.”

“I didn’t think you’d even want to go to college.”

Kenny frowned.  “Why do people keep saying that?”

Kyle shrugged.  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to offend you, dude.”

“Hey guys!”

Kyle jumped slightly, startled as Bebe stumbled up behind them and draped an arm over each of their shoulders.

“Hey, Bebe,” Kenny greeted her.  “Are you drunk already?”

She scoffed.  “I’ve only had two beers.”

“So you are drunk,” Kyle replied knowingly.

“Have either of you guys seen Wendy?” Bebe asked.

“I haven’t,” Kenny replied.

“I don’t think she’s here yet,” Kyle said.

“Oh, Bebe,” Kenny said, slipping a hand around her waist.  “You know you were supposed to wear clothes under your graduation gown this morning, right?”

Bebe snorted.  “Oh, god.  You could tell?”

“Well, it was either that or you were smuggling bullets in your bra.”

“Why does everyone think it’s okay to talk about my girlfriends nipples right in front of me?”

“Have you guys seen Wendy?”

Kyle looked up to see Cartman walking toward them, a beer in one hand and a bag of Funyuns in the other.

“Cartman!” Bebe exclaimed, lifting her arms from Kyle’s and Kenny’s shoulders to greet their fat friend with a hug.

“God, is she drunk already?”

“I’m gonna miss you when I leave, Cartman,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Yeah, she’s drunk,” Kenny answered unnecessarily.

“Have you guys seen Wendy?” Cartman asked again, returning Bebe’s hug reluctantly.

“No, I don’t think she’s gotten here yet,” Kyle replied.

Cartman glanced at Kenny.  “Where’s Stan?”

“Probably at home packing,” Kenny said with a shrug.  “He leaves for California in a week.”

Bebe unwrapped herself from Cartman to look at Kenny.  “That’s so sad.”

“Not really,” Kyle replied.

The others looked at him skeptically.

Kyle shrugged.  “Let’s be honest, guys, Stan hasn’t really been around a whole lot this year.  He could leave for California _tonight_ , and I don’t think a single person would notice.”

* * *

 

Stan shifted his heavy duffel bag from his right to his left shoulder, continuing his trek down the dimly lit street.  He hadn’t told anyone he was leaving tonight.  He’d just left his parents a note on the coffee table.  It was easier this way.  It saved him from all those painful, drawn-out goodbyes.  He never knew how to react when people started crying, and he liked to think at least a few people would be upset enough at his leaving to cry about it.

He was ready to get out of South Park.  He wanted a fresh start.  There would be no closet this time.  He was going to be completely upfront about who he was.  Keeping secrets had done nothing for him here.

He had a decent amount of money saved up.  He’d find a cheap place to rent.  He’d get a job.  After that, who knew?  Maybe he’d go to college eventually.  Maybe he’d find some new guy.  Maybe he’d learn to surf.  Maybe he’d forget about Kyle.  He didn’t have it all planned out the way Kenny did, but he figured the future had to hold something good for him.  Something better than he had now, at least.

Stan glanced up as a gray Ford Taurus pulled up beside him.

“Hey, Stan!” Wendy called through the driver’s side window.  “You going to Token’s party?”

Stan shook his head, holding up his duffel bag.  “Amtrak station.”

 “Oh,” Wendy replied with a frown.  “Well, do you want a ride?”

“Sure.”

He walked around the car to the passenger side, holding his bag on his lap when he climbed in.

“I thought you weren’t leaving for another week,” Wendy commented as she shifted into drive.

“Change of plans.”

“Does anyone else know about this change of plans?”

Stan rolled his eyes.  “You caught me.  I’m skipping out early.”

“How come?”

“I’m just ready to leave South Park,” Stan said simply.  He kicked at a man’s dress shoe on the floor of her car.  “Is this Cartman’s shoe?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.

Even in the dim light, he could see Wendy’s cheeks flush.

“Wendy?” Stan asked, growing suspicious.  “What’s Cartman’s shoe doing in your car?”

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Eric and I have been…dating.  Since prom.”

Stan raised his eyebrows.  “And by ‘dating’, you mean…”

“I mean _dating_ , Stan.  We’re not having sex, if that’s what you’re asking.  We’re taking things slow.”

“And this is a secret because…?”

A slow smile crept onto her face.  “I don’t know.  Secrets are…fun.”

Stan groaned.  “Trust me, Wendy, secrets are not _fun_.”

“Oh yeah?  And what are you hiding, Mr. Marsh?”

“Let’s see, that would be…none of your business.”

“Be that way.”

They approached Token’s block, and Stan could see the lights in his house and the row of cars lining his street.  As they grew closer, he could start to hear the music.

“Do you want to stop and say goodbye?” Wendy asked.

He swallowed, shaking his head quickly.

* * *

 

**May, 2011**

“Come on Kenny.  Pick up.  Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Kyle sat in one of his wooden kitchen chairs, wearing only a faded pair of blue jeans and clutching his phone to his ear.  He tapped his foot anxiously, listening to the ring and waiting for his friend to answer.

After five rings, Kenny finally picked up.  “Hello?” he answered groggily.

“Hey, Kenny,” Kyle greeted him quietly.

“This better be good, Kyle.  Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“It’s, uh, noon.”

“Oh.”  There was a long pause.  “Well I just woke up.  I had sort of a late night.  If you know what I mean.”

Kyle groaned, planting a hand on his forehead, digging his palm into his eye socket.  “I know _exactly_ what you mean.”

Kenny gave a perverted laugh.  “Yeah you do.  Wait, what do _you_ mean?”

“Kenny, I sort of…”  Kyle dragged his hand down his face, sloppily folding down his lower lip and letting it bounce back into place.  “I hooked up with Stan last night.”

“You _what_?”

“We hooked up.”

“And by ‘hooked up’, you mean you two, like…went all the way?”

“All the way?  What are you, a teenage girl in the sixties?  Yes, Kenny, we went ‘all the way’.  We did the dirty.  We knocked boots.  Made whoopee.”

“Do you come up with these in your spare time?  Do you have a list on your iPhone or something?”

“Focus, Kenny.  I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what this means.”

“What it means?  Well, do you like him?”

Kyle combed a hand through his hair.  “I don’t think I’m gay, Kenny.”

“I didn’t ask you if you’re gay.  I asked you if you like Stan.”

“Well, _yes_.  I mean, I think so…”

Kyle’s voice trailed off as his bedroom door opened and Stan stumbled out, rubbing his eyes sleepily and wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs.  To his credit, it was more than he’d been wearing when Kyle left the room.

“Kenny, I’ve gotta go,” Kyle whispered into his phone.

“Wait, Kyle, do you…?”

“Bye,” Kyle cut him off, hanging up quickly as Stan joined him at the kitchen table.

“Morning,” Stan mumbled.

“Morning,” Kyle replied awkwardly.

“Was that Kenny?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him…?”

“Yes.”

Stan nodded.  “Oh.”

“You’re not mad that I told him, are you?”

“If you didn’t, I would have.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

Stan rubbed his temples slowly, deep in thought.  “So…what does this mean?  Are you and I, like, together now?”

Kyle cringed.  “Do we have to talk about it?”

Stan nodded.  “Yeah.  We do.  I don’t want us to just stop talking again.”

“I didn’t say I was opposed to talking.  I just don’t want to have _this_ talk.”

“Well we have to.  Because I’m in love with you.”

Kyle bit his lip.  “You’re what?”

“I’m in love with you, Kyle.  I was in love with you ten years ago, and I ran off to California because I was so afraid of how in love with you I was.  And I thought I could get over you.  I _did_ get over you.  I started going days without thinking about you, and then weeks, and eventually I stopped thinking about you altogether…”

“That’s a really nice story, Stan.  I like the part where you totally forgot about me.  Thank you for telling me that.”

Stan sighed.  “But it took a long time, Kyle.  It took me _years_ to move on.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“The plane ticket I bought in L.A. was a round trip,” Stan told him.  “My flight leaves tonight.”

“So you’re going back?”

“I don’t have to.  After last night I…I wasn’t going to.  But if last night didn’t mean anything, if it was just a one-night stand…then I’m getting on that plane today like I planned.  And I won’t be coming back.”

“You don’t speak to me for eleven years, and now you’re giving me an ultimatum?  Is that really fair?”

“It’s not an ultimatum.  Well, it kind of is, but…getting over you the first time was hard enough.  I don’t know if I can go through it all again.  After last night, I don’t think I could handle having to see you every day and not _having_ you.”

“How do you even know you’re still in love with me?  It’s been ten years.  We’re not the same people we were in high school.  Stan, you’ve only been back in South Park for three days.  Maybe we have nothing in common anymore.  Maybe we’ll end up hating each other."

“Being afraid of what might happen has never gotten me anywhere.”

Kyle buried his face in his hands.  He was getting a headache from all this thinking.  On one hand, he knew he was right.  He would be taking a big leap of faith if he gave this thing with Stan a shot.  Over the course of their friendship, Stan hadn’t really given Kyle much reason to trust him.  On the other hand, Stan was right too.  Kyle had never been a risk taker, and where had it gotten him?  A second-rate education and a job he hated at his father’s law firm.  He let out a sigh, lifting his head.

“Cartman and Wendy are gonna be moving into their own place pretty soon,” he told Stan.  “I’m gonna need a new roommate.”

Stan raised his eyebrows.  “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Only because Clyde already turned down the offer.  Something about not being able to brush his teeth at a sink that he knows Cartman has thrown up into.”

“Well of course he turned you down.  You forgot to sleep with him before asking him to move in.”

Kyle laughed.  “Look, I know it’s kind of a big decision.  And it’s a huge risk.  And it’s really, really stupid.  But I’m game if you are.”

Stan smiled, standing up from the table and walking to Kyle’s side.  He grabbed the other man by the hands, pulling him to his feet and into a long kiss.

Kyle heard a door open and a pair of feet shuffling into the room.

“Oh, God, Kenny got to you guys too?  This is exactly why they shouldn’t let him teach children.  They’re so impressionable at that age.”

Kyle broke the kiss, turning to look at Cartman as he ambled toward the fridge.

“Good morning, Cartman.”

“Could you two have been a little louder last night?” Cartman asked, pulling a carton of milk from the fridge and turning to rummage through the cupboards.  “That was quite possibly the worse way to find out how much Stan likes to take it up the ass.”

“That serves you right, jackass,” Kyle replied, as Stan draped an arm comfortably over his shoulder.

“And I think, at least until Wendy and I move out of here, we need to start enforcing a ‘fully-clothed in the kitchen at all times’ rule,” Cartman continued with a grin, sitting down at the table with his bowl of Cap’n Crunch.

“What do you look so happy about?” Kyle asked him suspiciously.

Cartman beamed.  “Wendy and I finally came to an agreement last night.”

“She’s taking your last name?” Stan asked.

“No,” Cartman replied.  “But she agreed that when we have kids, they shouldn’t have to go by some douchy, hyphenated last name.  So the kids get my name.”

“That sounds fair,” Kyle said with a nod.  “Since you’re gonna be the one quitting your job to raise them.”

Cartman dropped his spoon.  “What?”

“Well you don’t expect _Wendy_ to quit her job to stay home with the kids, do you?”

“ _Goddammit_.”


	9. Epilogue: Someday

**November, 2011**

“I’ve known Eric and Wendy since we were kids, and if you’d told me back then that someday they’d be married, I’d have told you you were crazy.  And if you’d told me that I’d be giving the best man’s toast at their wedding, I’d have asked for some of whatever you were smoking.”

Kyle paused for the scattered laughter.  He glanced at Stan, who just smiled and rolled his eyes.

“But a lot has changed since we were kids,” Kyle continued.  “Eric and Wendy became a couple in May of 2001.  That may not seem all that long ago, so in order to give you all a little perspective, I’ve compiled a short list to remind you of what was going on ten years ago.”  Kyle cleared his throat, digging a folded sheet of notebook paper from the back pocket of his pants.  “Just after our class graduated, _Here’s to the Night_ by Eve 6 was released, and has been played at every South Park High graduation since.  Destiny’s Child added the word ‘bootylicious’ to our vocabulary.  In 2008, they added it to the Oxford English Dictionary.”  Kyle looked at Wendy.  “At our senior prom, Eric and Wendy danced to _Drops of Jupiter_ by Train.”

Wendy’s jaw dropped.  “ _You remember that_?” she mouthed.

“Eric and Wendy got together the year that the band Aqua broke up.  Their song _Barbie Doll_ , however, lives forever in our hearts.  Savage Garden also disbanded that year, and Darren Hayes would not come out publicly for five more years after that.  ‘N Sync would not break up for another year, and Lance Bass would not come out of the closet until five years later, but there was never really any question there.”

That line got a laugh from Kenny, although Kyle figured he was probably not laughing at his joke, but at the fact that Kyle could distinguish ‘N Sync from the Backstreet Boys.

“Speaking of very public comings-out, Michael Stipe of R.E.M came out that year, but we’d have to give Rosie O’Donnel another year, Neil Patrick Harris another five years, Wanda Sykes seven years, Ricky Martin nine years, and Stan Marsh ten years.”

“Kyle!” Stan cried, and Kenny cackled and slapped Stan on the back.

“Eric and Wendy got together the year that Wikipedia was launched.  YouTube would not exist for another four years.  Myspace had another two years to go and Facebook would come around a year after that.  My family bought its first DVD player the year that Wendy and Eric got together.  In case you were wondering, the first DVD we watched on it was _The Emporer’s New Groove_ , and yes, I still have it.

“A few movies that came out that year: _Hedwig and the Angry Inch_.  No idea what that is.  Kenny told me to include it.  _American Pie II_ , all the depth and emotion of its predecessor, and Stifler’s mom gets a name.  It’s Janine.  Also, _Oceans Eleven_ , _The Fast and the Furious_ , _Black Hawk Down_ , and a little film called _The Fellowship of the Ring_.  You might have heard of it."

“How long does this list go on?” the groom shouted from the wedding party table.

Kyle skimmed down his paper.  “Let’s see.  _Regis and Kathie Lee_ became _Regis and Kelly_.  Remember Razor scooters?  Yeah, those were popular.  And, uh, everyone was saying ‘ _Whazzup!?_ ’  Oh, yeah, and something big might have happened in, like September.”

The crowd laughed, and Kyle folded up his speech and tucked it into his back pocket.  The list went on, but he figured it was time to go off-book. 

“Other things that have changed since Eric and Wendy fell in love.  Our friend Bebe has a beautiful daughter and her own art studio in Providence.  Our friend Kenny teaches fourth grade at South Park Elementary, where we were taught by Mr. Garrison.  He lives in the new development across town with his partner.  Pretty much the only thing that’s stayed the same is that Cartman is still the fattest asshole in this town.”

“Hey!”

“What I’m trying to say is that no matter how much we try to control it, we grow up.  Things change and life can end up surprising you.  Things don’t go according to plan.  You don’t always get what you expected.  And that’s the way it should be, because love can come from the most unexpected of places.”

Stan beamed up at him, and Kyle winked back at him slyly.

“Hey, Jew.  Quit eye-fucking Stan and wrap up your self-indulgent little speech.  This is supposed to be my day.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and raised his glass in the air.  “So here’s to two people no one ever expected to get married, let alone to each other, Mr. Eric Cartman and Ms. Wendy Testaburger.”

The room applauded politely, and Kenny began chanting “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” as Kyle made his way back to his seat between Cartman and Stan.  Cartman and Wendy happily obliged.

Stan squeezed Kyle’s knee as he took his seat.  Kyle smiled at him, then turned to look at Cartman, who was still kissing Wendy heavily.

“Slow down, you two,” Bebe advised, tugging on Wendy’s arm as the bride slipped her tongue shamelessly into her new husband’s mouth for the world to see.  “Save it for the honeymoon.”

“Gross,” Stan added.

“Dude,” Kenny said, leaning forward to address Cartman around Stan and Kyle.  “It’s not customary to consummate your marriage in the reception hall in front of the in-laws.”

“Look who’s talking,” Cartman shot back, as Wendy pulled away reluctantly.  “Don’t think I didn’t see you and Craig slip into the bathroom during the maid of honor’s toast.”

Kenny didn’t reply, but his dopey smile confirmed Cartman’s accusation.

“You didn’t listen to my toast?” Bebe asked, slightly hurt.

“Not the point,” Wendy reminded her.

Kyle shook his head, grinning.  This was the first time the whole group had been together since the reunion, and something about felt unmistakably right.

The past five months had been hectic for everybody.  Cartman and Wendy had fought over wedding plans until Cartman caved to Wendy’s every desire.  They moved out of Kyle’s apartment and into a modest two-bedroom house of their own.  As soon as Iris was ready to travel, Bebe had moved out of her mom’s house and back to her apartment in Providence.  Kenny and Craig had spent most of their summer helping their neighbors out with their new baby and babysitting their ten-year-old.  Once school started up again in August, Kenny told Kyle that he didn’t want to see another child for the rest of his life, but Kyle knew he was lying.

As for Kyle and Stan, they’d gone on a short trip to California, just long enough to get all of Stan’s belongings together.  And Stan had insisted that Kyle get a couple surfing lessons in while he was there.  After that, they’d returned to Colorado and officially moved Stan into Cartman and Wendy’s old room in Kyle’s apartment.  Not that he ever actually _slept_ in there.  Kyle’s room was warmer at night.  At least, that was the excuse Stan used.

Kyle had tried to convince Stan to enroll in some classes at the community college in August, but Stan had refused, insisting that college wasn’t for him.  Instead, he’d gotten a job as a mechanic, which Kyle had secretly scoffed at until Stan started bringing in real money and coming home every day greasy and, more often than not, shirtless.

When they weren’t working, Kyle and Stan spent their spare time getting reacquainted with one another.  And they got to know each other in every way possible.  Somehow, none of their friends seemed terribly surprised by their relationship.  With the exception of Bebe, but that was to be expected, since she’d been Kyle’s last major romantic partner.

Stan told Kyle he loved him every day, like he was making up for all the times he didn’t say it in high school.  He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Kyle had yet to say it back.  He figured he _could_ love Stan.  He just didn’t know if he was there yet.  If he wasn’t, he was certainly on his way.

“So I got called into Principal Victoria’s office,” Kenny was telling Stan when Kyle rejoined the conversation.

“Ooh,” Stan teased.  “Kenny got in trouble!”

“I did,” Kenny replied.  “Adam Gilmore’s mother was in there, and she was pissed because I was reading _The Chamber of Secrets_ to my class.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well get this.  Mrs. Gilmore was complaining to Principal Victoria that I was teaching my fourth graders _witch craft_.  Can you believe that?”

Stan laughed.  “So did she make you stop reading it?”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Kenny said.  “As Victoria was trying to calm Mrs. Gilmore down, somehow the fact that I’m gay was slipped into the conversation, and apparently Mrs. Gilmore wasn’t aware of that little tidbit.  She stormed out of that office, and a week later, she pulled Adam out of my class.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Stan!”

“What?  I’m told that kids are very impressionable at that age.”

Kyle laughed.

“So what happened next?” Stan asked.

“Well, Victoria and I had a discussion, and we came to a compromise.  I can’t read _Harry Potter_ to my kids anymore, but I get to keep being gay.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Hey guys,” Craig greeted them, approaching the party table with Bebe’s sleeping daughter in his arms.  “Bebe, I think Iris is afraid of Stan’s dad.  He tried to hold her and she just started bawling.  I finally got her to sleep though.”

 “Thanks, Craig,” Bebe replied, reaching across the table to take her daughter back.  “You’re gonna make a great dad, you know that?”

Craig beamed across the table at Kenny, and Kenny smiled back sadly.

If this was some sort of Hollywood movie, Kyle thought, this would be the part in the end where Kenny stands up and announces to the table that he and Craig are finally going to adopt a child.  Then Bebe would tell everybody that she’s met someone, and they’re moving back to South Park permanently to be closer to her friends.  Then the camera would pan out to show all of the happy couples in the reception hall, and the credits would roll over Cartman and Wendy sharing their first dance as a married couple to _Drops of Jupiter_.

But this wasn’t a movie.  Kyle liked to think that his friends would have all that someday.  But it would take a lot more time.  A lot more heartache.  Hell, maybe some of them wouldn’t even get happy endings.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked, taking hold of Kyle’s hand under the table.

Kyle smiled at him, squeezing back gently.  “Nothing,” he replied.

Right now, nothing was wrong.  Right now, he was happy.  He would worry about _someday_ when he got to it.


End file.
